D is for Dandelion. How could it not be?
I meant to write a much better post. One with pictures and orderly ideas. But this week got away from me, what with car trouble and money trouble as a result of car trouble and . . . you get the idea. D is really for distractions, but I couldn’t find a way to make that fit the Pagan Blog Project theme. So, on to Dandelions! My favorite.
Though the flood of Dandelion posts stopped coming ages ago, I haven’t stopped my love affair with Dandelion.
Nothing more common than a dandelion, right? Except . . . not.
Dandelion was the first plant that ever came to me in a vision. Well . . . actually, I guess I came to Dandelion. In my vision I was very tiny, and being carried by some kind of bird. I was dropped into a dandelion blossom. There were other things in that vision too–giant stone goddesses in a cavernous temple, and feeling my smallness in a big universe. But the Dandelion was the destination: it was light and hope in a dark place.
The trouble with writing a Dandelion post is that there is SO MUCH I COULD TELL YOU ABOUT HER. So I’ll just tell you a few of the impressions that come to mind most immediately for her. Then you can work with her and see for yourself–anyone in a temperate zone should have easy access to Dandelions as long as they aren’t buried under a bunch of snow.
Metaphysically speaking, Dandelion flowers and those wonderful seed-filled puffballs lift the spirits, and can bring childlike cheer and playfulness to our magic. The seed heads are especially good for the kind of magic where you want to send good wishes into the air–especially if those wishes are for more than yourself.
With the way she grows abundantly everywhere, and every part of her is so good for you, Dandelion embodies generosity and community. What looks like a petal in a Dandelion blossom is actually an entire flower, perfect and complete–but together all those little flowers make up something greater than each on their own. A great ally for someone who wishes to invest themselves in community but struggles to maintain personal boundaries and identity.
And her roots–roots that go deep, roots you will never manage to dig up completely no matter how hard you try–bring life and openness to dead soil, drawing on nutrients deep down. She is like that energetically, too: work with her roots when you feel you need to draw on strength (or other qualities) that are buried too deep to access easily. But be careful here–Dandelion can also bring to the surface long-buried emotions, and working with her roots this way can be intense. Not bad, but intense.
There is more–so much more–I could say about Dandelion. And maybe I will. Later. Now I have to get ready for work.