I’d like to share a story with you. It’s about an extraordinary
woman who accomplished extraordinary things. I’m sharing it not
because she did these things, but because we all have this ability to
share our lives in an intimate way with nature. Read on, and
believe...
Barbara McClintock was one of the great scientists of the century.
Born in 1902, she became interested in plants and in her own
consciousness early on. She was to combine the two interests in a way
that led to a breakthrough in genetics and eventually a Nobel Prize.
As a young woman, McClintock wanted to study the nature of genes. Keep
in mind, no one in those days had even seen genes. The only way you
could study them was by observing traits as they occurred in maize, or
corn. To study corn, you counted kernels, noting their different
shapes and sizes. You examined each ear both by hand and under the
microscope. After taking lots of notes, the next year you planted
another crop of corn and carefully bred the plants. You then studied
the new crop, keeping track of the similarities and differences.
Endless ears of corn, years of work, hundreds of pages of notes;
infinite patience.
McClintock loved her plants and spent most of her time in the field
trying to uncover the secrets of maize. She’d get to know every
single one of the hundreds of plants in her plots. She would know its
parents and she would visit it often as it grew, learning its look,
feel and personality. She would develop, as she would say, "a
feeling for the organism."
In the 1860s, an Austrian monk named Gregor Johann Mendel
systematically crossbred plants having different colored seeds to see
what would happen. In time, he found a predictable pattern to the way
offspring developed. Some "units" however, seemed to carry
traits and characteristics down through the generations of plants in
an odd way. These traits would disappear suddenly and then
mysteriously show up generations later. Mendel wrote a paper about his
discoveries, but no one paid much attention. Mendel died before his
mathematical formulas were understood.
McClintock became interested in Mendel’s mysterious moving
traits. She accumulated vast quantities of data, which she studied
closely, looking for patterns to emerge. Bits of ideas and partial
answers came to her, but the mystery remained.
Remember, in the ‘20s and ‘30s, no one had ever seen genes.
They were abstract pieces of a theory. It was like trying to draw a
portrait of someone using only a list of the phone numbers they
dialed.
McClintock had always been interested in consciousness as well. As
a girl she loved to run, jumping high into the air as she ran. After
doing this for a while, she’d come into a focused clarity that she
enjoyed. Over the years, McClintock developed the art of solving
problems using tremendous focus. Michael Roads, in his book,
"Talking With Nature," calls it the art of listening and
seeing – of being in the moment.
"If we listen, totally, we cannot think, for thinking moves us
away from the moment," says Roads. "We can think and hear,
but hearing is not listening. Listening brings us into the moment, the
only place of life, of God."
Roads also reminds us to practice the art of seeing. "We look
at Nature and people through yesterday’s eyes, just as we hear with
yesterday’s ears. We have forgotten how to see anew, the way a child
sees, everything brimming with the excitement of discovery."
McClintock used this same type of practice to do something no other
geneticist had done. She let herself "think like corn." She
let herself merge with the object of her study, her passion, her love.
This is the same technique of musicians, artists, scientists and
mystics.
One day, when all of the work was fresh in her mind, she went for a
walk. She sat down and let herself think like corn. She began to see
things from the perspective of a gene. She suddenly got a series of
intuitions about how these genes worked, how they moved, and why they
did what they did. She saw how they would sometimes jump around, and
why. It made sense of all the data, yet it destroyed a lot of present
day theory.
McClintock returned to her normal awareness and went back to the
lab. She was excited to learn that her vision explained the facts.
Theory would have to change. It did. She wrote up a version of her
vision, which is now known as jumping genes. Though it took a long
time to be accepted, it is standard practice in genetic theory today.
And though her method of thinking like corn had carried her well ahead
of her colleagues, she knew well enough not to mention her technique.
How many of us have the courage to follow Barbara McClintock and
Michael Roads’ examples when faced with a problem?
How to Communicate with Plants
The following steps will help you learn to communicate with plants,
be they houseplants, maple trees or a wild iris. These are only
guidelines, so allow yourself to develop your own technique. We all
have the ability to communicate with other species. "The
interconnectedness of all life does not have to be an abstract
concept. We can live it," writes Judith Handlesman, author of
"Growing Myself--A Spiritual Journey Through Gardening."
Remember to relax and don’t try too hard. Regular practice is the
key to developing any talent or skill. May your journey be one of
learning, growth, and love.
1) Ground and center. Feel connected to
the earth while centering yourself.
2) Clear your mind. If any thoughts come up, simply let them go on by.
3) Practice mindful breathing. Breathe from your abdomen, gently and
mindfully.
4) Let go of expectations and outcomes. This comes with practice and
trust.
5) Focus. Maintain a clear intention.
6) Get the plant’s attention. Say hello by saying its name several
times, silently or aloud.
7) Introduce yourself, and state your purpose.
8) Send your message. Visualize it moving toward the plant and gently
"lighting" on it.
9) Relax into receiving the plant’s message. The messages you
receive may be visual, auditory (words, whole sentences or sounds),
feelings in your body, sudden knowings (Ah ha’s), smells, tastes,
and so on.
10) Carry on a conversation, like you would with another person.
11) Be grateful and give thanks.
Author Marion Stirrup Owen is co-author of an exciting new
book, "Chicken Soup for the Gardener’s Soul." For
information, e-mail marion@ptialaska.net
