Signe Siemsen on the freedom of trusting in nature

Signe Siemsen calls herself an herbalist, and for as long as she can remember, she has felt an intuitive connection with wild nature. As a ten-year-old, she wanted to be a witch, inspired by the plant elixirs she had read about in books. During her early 20s, while working in clubs, she made it a habit to routinely escape into the forest during the day to recharge and reconnect with the living world.

Herbalism is the practice of using plants for healing and well-being, rooted in the idea that body, mind, and environment are connected. Today, it’s seen as a peculiarity – almost an eccentricity – but historically, it was a necessity and a norm.

'We’ve always foraged plants for food and medicine, and I don’t make a clear distinction between the two,’ Signe says. ‘I think we’re born with an inherent knowledge about what’s good for our bodies, but we’re taught to disregard it from an early age. Many people fear nature, but we are nature. We’re not separate from it – though we’ve learned to act as if we are, the way we live today, and we’ve been scared away from what once felt natural.’

There’s a clear annual rhythm to her practice. Spring, summer, and autumn are intense periods of gathering, drying, fermenting, and preparing tinctures, trying to process and preserve as much as possible of what the plants have to offer.

Nettle leaves – rich in vitamins, calcium, iron, and minerals – are dried and used in infusions to support and strengthen the immune system. Wild roses can ‘soften and heal the heart’ and are ‘good for fertility, love, sex, and passion’, as well as for moisturising and antiseptic skincare. Wild raspberry leaves are fermented and dried, used as the base in most herbal teas and infusions, supporting the immune system, helping with hormone balance, and easing menstrual pains. And though prepared and used year-round, Signe says, winter is usually when the body needs these remedies the most. 

'I believe that much of the medicine that plants carry lies in the connection and processing, and in just being present with the plants. Sometimes, I don’t even feel I need to pick a specific plant to get something from it. It’s enough just to be in its presence.'

'I’m definitely drawn to the wild. There can be a lot of love in the cultivated – someone has planted a seed and tended to their plant with care and attention – so I have an enormous love for the cultivated too. But I think wild plants carry more medicinal properties because they’ve had to survive through many more challenges and haven’t been coddled in the same way.'

She runs courses, workshops, and foraging walks to encourage others to trust their own capabilities in nature and to approach it with a child’s mind.

'I’ve never seen my kids put anything toxic in their mouths. They’re intuitively drawn to plants that look good and are safe to pick. We’re all born with that open and curious perspective; kids trust their own senses so much, and they see themselves as part of nature, rather than separate from it. I think there’s incredible value in trusting that a child can handle things as they grow up and teaching them to trust their openness and intuition.'

And that’s still true for adults, Signe says, which is why she tries to avoid giving specific recommendations and simple how-tos in nature. ‘I find it very life-giving to keep trusting my own intuition and let go of the colonial idea that someone else always knows better what’s good for me. I think everyone can find their own favourites, and you do that best by moving among the plants – not with an observing eye where you’re actively searching, but by trying to let go of all such ambitions.'

Instead, you should try to sit with the plant and feel it, ideally over a longer period. What does it look like in spring, in summer, and in autumn? How does it wilt, and what do its seeds look like? How do its taste and smell change throughout this whole period?

'To be human is to create a life and a context, and we do that together with other people and our surroundings. We can’t do it without co-creating with what’s around us. So, it becomes strange that we distance ourselves from that process of making in terms of what we eat, what we wear, and how we live. I’m not saying everyone has to build their own houses, make their own clothes, or catch their own food, but I think we could all return to these areas. Not everyone can do everything, but if each of us finds something to create with our surroundings, I believe we’d feel much better and find the sense of connection we’re missing.'