I cannot even tell you how many times I have written and rewritten this article — only to return once again to something close to the very first version, and then let it go all over again. I have come to realize that I cannot fully do Elder justice. Mother Elder, as I lovingly call her, is such a profound and powerful teacher. There are countless stories, myths, and layers surrounding her — far more than I could ever fully capture in words. But perhaps that is not what truly matters. What I can offer is my own story and my personal experience with her.
Mother Elder and Me
I have carried a deep love for Elder for what feels like forever. The scent of her leaves always carries me back to my childhood.
In the neighboring garden stands a magnificent Elder bush, so tall that it rises higher than some storage halls. Whenever I open my window or step outside the house, I am greeted by her presence. And what a beautiful sight she is. In summer, she offers shelter to squirrels and countless birds. Whenever I sit out on my terrace, I connect with her. I greet her and thank her for her presence. Sometimes, we enter into quiet conversation. But most of the time, I simply let her feel my gratitude and joy at the sight of her. And so, I watch her through the changing seasons. I witness the green slowly returning, delight in the beauty of her delicate white blossoms, and later in autumn, in her deep red berries. In winter, I see her bare essence. Whenever I look at her, a gentle smile always finds its way to my lips.
Isn’t she magnificent?
Connecting With Her
Several years ago, when I first began exploring plant communication, she was the very first plant with whom I held a plant ritual together with friends. It was a beautiful evening shared together.
I experience her as a kind and supportive being — motherly, nourishing, deeply feminine. Yet she can also be very clear and determined. During one of my first encounters with her, I found myself connected within seconds to my ancestors and to my own inner power. It happened so suddenly and so intensely that it frightened me. It would take several more years — and much shadow work — before I could truly begin to stand in connection with that power. She can be loving, but also deeply clear and guiding, if we are willing to listen to her.
When I was asked to create seven base tinctures for my spagyric training, I immediately knew that Elder had to be one of them. I chose the Elder blossoms for a spagyric Moon tincture, and the berries for a Saturn tincture.
Since our first encounter had connected me so deeply with my ancestors, I expected Mother Elder to appear around Samhain. The time came and passed — yet still no Elder came knocking at my door. I continued working with other plants, and then suddenly, shortly after Christmas, just as I had intended to retreat into silence, I sensed her presence very clearly.
My joy was immense. Mother Hulda during the 12 Holy Nights — how fitting. In the Rainbow Medicine Wheel, the North — the place of winter — is also the place of the Elders and the Wise Ones. It is the realm of clarity. I was deeply happy. I looked forward to connecting with Mother Hulda — for Elder is the tree of the Great Earth Goddess — and to receiving clear messages. Gradually, I also became aware that it was the time of Capricorn. Capricorn belongs to the element of Earth, and its ruling planet is Saturn. Fitting as well. Just how fitting, I only came to understand little by little.
The spagyric tincture was meant to be elevated into something closer to an essence. The message was clear. It was not only about calcination — distillation, too, was being called for.
And so, I made my first shamanic journey to to Mother Elder. Her first message was that I needed to reconnect with my ancestral mothers. Not only my direct ancestors were meant here, but also other women and teachers who had walked before me. I was also being called to reconnect more deeply with my femininity — something that, sadly, had been neglected during the previous year.
During the second journey, I noticed myself jumping restlessly from one thing to another. I could not find stillness. And then suddenly, I was surrounded by darkness. Not the beautiful, comforting darkness that feels safe and nurturing — the kind of darkness I deeply love. This felt different. It felt as though dark water was closing over me. I felt unsettled. I felt fear. All I could think was: What is this? It was so completely contrary to everything I had expected.
Soon, however, I began to understand what it was trying to show me. During the following weeks, I found myself confronted with old patterns, fears, unresolved family dynamics, boundaries I was unable to set clearly, structures that no longer felt aligned, business-related issues, societal expectations, personal themes, and challenges within friendships. One stone after another was turned over for me to look at.
It was an emotional back and forth — a kind of inner chaos. Not unbearable, but exhausting nonetheless. At the same time, I was also experiencing physical symptoms and sleepless nights due to hormonal changes. And within all of it, I could not find a common thread. No matter how hard I tried, none of it seemed to make sense to me. It felt like that dark black mass — which, interestingly enough, had emerged from the calcination of the Elder itself.
As I began grinding this dark mass in the mortar, I suddenly had the feeling that I was in the process of breaking apart old structures. It was such an interesting sensation. And strangely enough, it felt good — liberating even.
And then, one evening while sitting in my car, I accidentally clicked on an audiobook. Suddenly, it felt as though something clicked into place. The title of the audiobook was The Wisdom of Menopause by Christiane Northrup. I had to laugh. Even though I had absolutely no desire to listen to it, I did so anyway. And there they were — all my themes. Slowly, step by step, they began rising into my awareness, and for the first time, I truly began to understand.
The Realization
It was not many separate themes at all, but one great theme that held all the others within it: menopause — or rather, postmenopause. Mother Elder and Saturn were the perfect companions to reveal all of this to me.
I had already been walking this path for quite some time, yet somehow I still wanted to continue living as I always had. I had ignored all the warning signs. And I had no idea how to navigate the physical symptoms that suddenly began appearing. I started to feel helpless and old. I realized that I, too, had become entangled in the beliefs of society — even though I felt I should know better by now. But there is a difference between knowing something intellectually and truly living through it. For the first time, I became deeply aware that I was moving through a profound process of transformation. And Mother Elder showed me what that truly meant.
I realized that I am within my own process of calcination and distillation — a clearing of all that no longer belongs to me, and an elevation of my being into the next stage of life. And I feel that it is also about revealing my essence. What exactly this means, I will come to understand over time — of that I am certain.
This realization felt deeply liberating. Plants offer us guidance. They support us through our processes. But how we choose to walk the path is ultimately our own free decision.
Yesterday was my third attempt at calcination. After everything that had unfolded, I hoped that this time the ashes would finally turn white. White as snow 😉. Somehow, that felt important to me.
And once again, I entered into a shamanic journey. Mother Elder brought me to a mountain ridge. Before me stretched endless vastness. She invited me to connect with that vastness. At first, I began to feel uncomfortable. It felt too wide, too open, too uncertain. I wanted to retreat back into my inner garden, back to my ancestral mothers. But Mother Elder asked me to remain where I was. She stood behind me and gently placed her hand upon my right shoulder. And so I stayed. I connected with the vastness, and slowly I began to understand that it was my own choice whether I would return to constriction or choose, each day, to connect with openness instead. For that was her message — to practice this daily. Gradually, the uncertainty began transforming into curiosity. Curiosity about what still wished to reveal itself. Curiosity — and even joy — for what was waiting ahead of me. And suddenly, there was also a sense of adventure.
Then, all at once, I began transforming into a great Elder tree. I had become a large and magnificent tree, covered in deep red/black berries. And Mother Elder said: “Look… these are thousands of possibilities.”