The oath I swore
Swearing oaths isn’t something we tend to do these days. When I consider it, I usually picture medieval knights swearing oaths of allegiance or revenge or doing whatever it takes to win the heart of their love.
Swearing an oath used to be a very big deal. It had a lot to do with personal honour, a subject we don’t really talk about any more. Historically, the very best an oath-breaker could hope for was banishment but the most likely outcome would be the loss of their life.
Incidentally, swearing an oath is different to swearing a vow. But that’s another story
When I qualified as a herbalist, I swore a four-part oath
- Firstly, do no harm.
- Treat the cause.
- Work with the healing power of nature.
- Heal myself.
The 39 people who witnessed this swearing all signed the written form of the oath.
Every amazing herbalist that I’ve met and learned from takes what’s in this oath as their set of guiding principles. It makes them very safe and very effective practitioners because they’re aiming for people to be cured if at all possible, not dependent on something that only alleviates symptoms.
These herbalists have something else in common: they’re humble. They know they’re not the ones doing the healing. They don’t think they have all the answers. They do their very best to meet their patients where they’re at and support them for as long as the patient wishes it.
Swearing an oath changes you
An oath, sincerely made and lived by, shapes you whether you’re aware of it or not. It can guide you to bigger truths and help you rise to understand them.
Powerful stuff. Then again, so is healing.
