<![CDATA[Health Literate : Where The Plants Speak]]>https://www.readhealthliterate.com/s/where-the-plants-speakhttps://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!ZqHp!,w_256,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fdb514934-c153-479d-a283-5dc81b0b086b_500x500.pngHealth Literate : Where The Plants Speakhttps://www.readhealthliterate.com/s/where-the-plants-speakSubstackFri, 30 Oct 2026 18:48:50 GMT<![CDATA[Herbalism Is Not Just for “Healthy” Bodies]]>https://www.readhealthliterate.com/p/herbalism-is-not-just-for-healthyhttps://www.readhealthliterate.com/p/herbalism-is-not-just-for-healthySun, 23 Nov 2025 20:50:27 GMTI came across a post today that really made me pause. A new herbal student was being told that in order to “truly learn” herbalism, they needed to personally try every herb the class covered. Contraindications, sensitivities, medications… allegedly brushed aside.

The message was clear: if your body cannot tolerate an herb, you will never be able to work with it.

I cannot express how deeply I disagree with that.

Herbalism is not a test of endurance. It is not about who can push through the most tinctures or ignore their own physiology for the sake of “experience.” Our practice is rooted in relationship, observation, study, and respect. If a teaching model asks you to override your intuition or your known contraindications, that is not experiential learning. That is unethical.

a hand holding a bunch of green grass
Photo by Cosmin Ursea on Unsplash

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]]><![CDATA[The God I Found in the Trees]]>https://www.readhealthliterate.com/p/the-god-i-found-in-the-treeshttps://www.readhealthliterate.com/p/the-god-i-found-in-the-treesTue, 27 May 2025 00:29:21 GMTWhere I Go to Meet the Divine
A personal reflection for those who find God in green things

You go to church to see God.
I find divinity in the trees.

This line has been sitting with me lately. Quietly. Heavily. Comfortably, even. Like a truth that’s always been there, waiting for me to say it out loud.

This is a personal story, yes, but not just mine. I know others out there feel this too. So here it is.

Not long ago, I heard I’d come up in conversation. Someone asked, “Why doesn’t Agy come to church?” I don’t think it was asked maliciously, probably more from curiosity than anything else. Still, maybe there was a little judgment in there too. And that’s fine.

But the question stayed with me.

I let it sit. I let it breathe. I didn’t rush to explain myself away. I just asked my own soul, gently: Why don’t I?

And the answer was quiet but sure.

I wasn’t raised in religion. My parents had their own complicated relationship with faith, and instead of forcing it on us, they let us find our own path. …

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