Reading with Poison Ivy
Poison ivy and their reading
I was walking through an old patch of woods with a friend the other day, and marveled at the lack of poison ivy as we wandered through leaves and overgrowth hunting morels. Where I live, a few miles up the road, poison ivy seems to be in constant territorial battle, stretching her tendrils further and further into the paths and grassy parts of my property where I like to roam. I am in the midst of trying to bargain with poison ivy, giving her free rein over certain woody parts of my property, in hopes she’ll retreat in the more trafficked parts where I’m starting gardens. So I decided to get to know this abundant, hardy native vine through the cards.
essence: five of cups
Poison Ivy thrives in land that’s been disturbed. Back to those woods I mentioned earlier, left untouched for the better part of a century, she’s scarce. Whereas my property, a hayfield only forty years ago, she’s abundant, particularly on the woodland edges and disrupted areas, where the land hasn’t quite resettled into woods. The Five of Cups came as a surprise here, but it rings true, doesn’t it? Poison ivy is a plant that knows loss, that grapples with grief, coming along on disturbed soil to restore and replenish. When the five of cups arrives, our emotions are flowing, and as anyone who’s expressed grief knows, the bottom falls out. Grief opens from an individual pain to mourning all our collective sorrows - habitat loss, mass extinction, take your pick. It is hard to open ourselves to this grief, for fear that it will overtake us, that there is nothing beyond it. But just as poison ivy eventually moves on from land that’s stabilized and able to support biodiversity again, so too, does our grief flow, opening us to deeper experiences of joy and the ability to feel the whole beautiful, painful spectrum of this lived experience.
Medicine: five of wands
Poison ivy is a bringer of chaos, a potent, threatening reminder that we must stay present and aware when traversing unknown ground. I’m fortunate to not yet have experienced a major poison ivy rash, but I know folks who have. It’s massively disruptive to plans, even causing people to miss work and social responsibilities, waylaid in agony. A chaotic defense indeed, for a plant who thrives in hardscrabble soil at the margins. To the unfortunate human who comes in contact with the toxic urushiol, it’s quite dangerous, yet for wildlife, poison ivy provides sources of nectar and food during the year. While it’s unarguably harsh, this plant does serve many purposes, but its medicine is more nuisance than nurturing to us.
How might we work with you? king of pentacles
If we are to approach poison ivy with any request, we must come correct! Only a master of the earthly plane can enter into a relationship with her. “Know your land,” says poison ivy, “work with her to restore abundance,” and from there, we can begin. I’m doing my best to take this advice, and will let y’all know how it goes.