top of page

Through the Lens of Plants: Herbal Medicine, Constitutions and a Neurodivergent World

ree


When I was in my early 20s, studying Naturopathy, I spent a few years immersed in the science of Herbal Medicine. I was introduced to a new language: plant morphology, constitutional medicine, and the deeper symbolism of nature.


At first, it felt completely foreign to my conventional Western mind. I thought to myself:

'Why are we meditating on weeds in the car park?

Why are we studying ancient systems instead of sticking to current science?'

But something about it became part of me.



Constitutional medicine, as I learned, is the art of understanding a person’s temperament, sensitivities, strengths, and imbalances and then what natural remedies will create balance within the system. It's a foundational practice across many healing systems. In Ayurveda, practitioners work with the doshas. In Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM), balance is found through elemental energies influenced by lifestyle, emotion, environment and age. Even Traditional Western Herbalism has its own constitutional frameworks, rooted in both folk wisdom and psychological archetypes. For example, Carl Jung’s four functions of the psyche are Intuition (sensing the whole picture), thinking (mentation), feeling (emotionality) and sensation (body knowledge) and the fifth function being “transcendence”, the active imagination – the helpful dreams or daydreams.

My teacher implied that Herbal Medicine was a language of both science and symbolism.

It wasn’t until years later that I truly understood the wisdom he was trying to impart.


 

Seeing People Like Plants

These teachings rewired my vision. Over time, I began to see people and nervous systems the way I saw plants. Some are delicate and sensitive, like Chamomile. Others are robust and grounding, like Ashwagandha.

When I meet someone, I instinctively ask:

What does this person need to stay in balance?

What environment helps them thrive?

Where do they naturally shine and where do they struggle?

This has become second nature in my work as a psychotherapist, but even more so as the mother of an Autistic child.


Parenting with the Lens of Constitution

Parenting my son has been a journey in sensitivity - both his and mine. From the very beginning, I noticed how his nervous system danced to a different rhythm. In nature -by the ocean, near the river - he was in balance, he would light up, grounded and joyful. But in shopping centres or crowded gatherings, his signals were extremely distressed.

I began asking different questions:

What environments is he naturally robust in?

What throws him out of balance?

How can I support his regulation without trying to "fix" who he innately is?

I also had to ask the same of myself:

What helps me stay grounded as his mum?

What throws me out of balance?

How can I replenish my own nervous system?


From Cheeseburger Mumma to the Incan Empire

One of my favourites (and most humbling) examples of my son’s uniqueness is his imagination. His access to what Jung might call the "transcendental" is unlike anything I’ve known. At one point, he insisted I was “Cheeseburger Mumma”, to say the least this didn’t quite match the image I was trying to portray. Currently he wholeheartedly believes his ancestry lies in the Incan Empire and anyone that knows him has learnt hours of facts as to why. I’ve learned that trying to redirect or suppress his imagination only intensifies it. But if I meet him in that world, co-regulation and resolution take place.

His inner world is a healing place.

Often, those signals have a bigger purpose than I can understand in the moment, there’s a value for him, our family system or the wider community. Years later, they always make perfect sense.

 

If My Son Were a Plant...

I often ask myself, what plant would match my son’s constitution?

The answer came quietly, but clearly: Mycelium.

Gentle. Soft. Deeply connected. Sensitive to the subtlest shifts in the environment.

Mycelium, the underground web of fungi that connects entire ecosystems. It senses where support is needed and sends nutrients to the roots of struggling plants. Its communication is quiet, powerful, and non-verbal - much like the way my son expresses himself through behaviours, instincts, and imagination.

Later, I've discovered researchers are studying the potential of mycelium in supporting Autism.

 

Neurodiversity as Village Medicine

The more I observe neurodiversity, the more I feel it mirrors the wisdom of constitutional medicine. It's not about curing difference, it’s about restoring balance.

The neuro-affirming movement as a collective has helped us adapt environments to support neurodivergent people, and in doing so, made those environments better for everyone.

Breakout spaces in schools. Shoes-off offices. Pets in the workplace. Sensory friendly hours at gyms and recreational venues. 

These are not just accommodations, they are echoes of a more human centred, needs based way of living.

To me, this is village medicine in action. A community-based approach to balancing wellbeing. And I see neurodivergent people, especially Autistic folks, as the leaders of this shift. Their needs - and the way we honour them - are teaching us how to live in even more harmony with ourselves and our environment.

 

In Their Own Time

There are still hard days. At times I wonder if I’ll ever find a sustainable rhythm. There have been moments where I didn’t know if my son would ever speak, or if we’d ever get through a playground visit fully clothed. (Spoiler: we now leave the house and come home fully dressed all days.)

But he grows in his own time, just like wild nature.

He blooms on a timeline that isn’t mine.

 

My Final Thoughts

Constitutional medicine taught me to look beyond symptoms.

To see essence, environment, potential and balance.

Neurodiversity has deepened that wisdom.

My son isn’t a collection of traits to be managed. He’s a being to be witnessed, heard, supported, and celebrated.

I’ve come to believe that the most ancient truths still hold resonance for our modern-day world:

We all thrive when we’re seen through a needs-based framework.

And often, the most sensitive among us, are the ones guiding us back to the forest.

 

Questions for You

  • Has your neurodivergent child or loved one sparked healing in your community or family system?

  • Do you find yourself seeing people or communities through the lens of nature too?

I’d love to hear your reflections.


ree

About The Writer


Becky Flores is an accomplished Psychotherapist with a rich background in Allied and Holistic health. She guides her clients through personal growth, at their own pace, fostering a safe and organic journey tailored to each individual.

With expertise in attachment theory, trauma-informed practice, perinatal health, parent coaching, carers counselling and mindfulness, Becky's approach is grounded in the Thic Nanh Hanh belief that "Our own life has to be our message".

 

She strives to empower and support clients as they navigate life stressors, finding inner peace and joy.​


Becky is currently offering as a Therapist at our Community Clinic once a month.

- Book your affordable session with her here

-Or, find out more about her out of clinic hours here



Reference material:

*Matthew Wood, 2004, The Practice of Traditional Western Herbalism, Basic Doctrine Energetics and Classification, North Atlantic Books, Berkely Cailfornia.

*Dorothy Hall’s, Herbal Medicine, What sort of person are you? Discover the herbs to match your person picture.

1 Comment


Yes and yes and yes to everything you have written here, Becky. Beautiful reflections! I especially love the line: But he grows in his own time, just like wild nature. He blooms on a timeline that isn’t mine.' That gave me goosebumps.

Like

© 2025 by M. McCosker /  Powered and secured by Wix

bottom of page