The Land in Our Bones by Layla K. Feghali, a Lebanese ethnobotanist and cultural worker, is a remarkable book focused on the plants and ancestral healing practices of the Levant.
It is also filled with reflections on the wounds inflicted by colonisation, what it means to live in the diaspora, and finding meaning and belonging in the spaces “in-between.”
Seamlessly flowing from the informative to the poetic and back again, it is richly interspersed with the stories and knowledge shared by village elders and indigenous healers, as well as relevant folklore and mythological cosmologies of the region.
Throughout the text, the author uses the historical name “Cana’an” to refer to the area between Syria and the Sinai (what is now commonly known as the Levant). In addition, she uses the term “Crossroads” to refer to the area known as the Middle East and North Africa region.
Reading the book from cover to cover is a journey in itself; however, this book is one to return to often and savour, by choosing a specific chapter or part to dive into more deeply. The book is an invitation to embody this knowledge fully.
Feghali was born and raised in California. As she discusses in Part I (Tracing Roots, Tending Futures), living in diaspora is an experience that is often accompanied by deep loss, grief and longing for what was left behind.
But her own experience, particularly with her grandmothers, extended family, family friends, and neighbours, has led her to observe that the gardens and kitchens of diasporic communities are also spaces where traditional practices and knowledge are nurtured, keeping a strong thread of connection to the homeland.
“Working with healing plants that grow in our region of origin or in the areas where we now live can set us on a journey towards the remembrance of our roots and a deeper connection to the lands where we live”
Over the years, Feghali cultivated a deep relationship with her ancestral lands, particularly her father’s village in the North of Lebanon and her mother’s village in the South. A soul-nurturing and community-building intention fuels the author’s annual extended trips to her homeland.
These regular visits, along with pilgrimages across Cana’an and the Crossroads, have contributed to Feghali developing an impressive lore of the land, through her research and her conversations with elders and healers.
While learning about and connecting to our ancestors is one way towards healing feelings of displacement, Part I also introduces readers to another type of ancestor — our “plantcestors,” a term first coined by Feghali in 2014, but that is based on a concept already present in different indigenous cultures: “Plants are our ancestors.”
The idea is that working with healing plants that grow in our region of origin or in the areas where we now live can set us on a journey towards the remembrance of our roots and a deeper connection to the lands where we live. In addition, the author explains that the term “re-membrance” is relevant to the region as it also refers to the Sufi practice of remembrance of God (“Zikr”).
Indeed, the underlying thread of the text is a methodology developed by Feghali which she calls “Plantcestral Re-membrance.”
Part II (Food Is Our Medicine, Love Is Our Medicine) covers herbs and other plant foods, which are one of the most common and direct ways of reconnecting to ancestral lands.
Foraging for a variety of wild foods such as Hindbeh (dandelion), often labelled as weeds in the West, is one of the practices that requires a deep knowledge of the land and connection to experienced elders and community members.
Zaatar, whose smell is characteristic of Beirut streets and mountain villages via the “manousheh,” has a whole chapter dedicated to it, and so does the mighty olive tree.
In fact, zaatar and olive oil, pantry items found in most diasporic homes, are often the most basic connection to plants of the homeland.
Another chapter covers the delicious fruits that define the summer seasons. The chapter on flowers such as orange blossom and Damascus rose demonstrates their versatility, beauty and healing qualities.
In Part III (Matriarchal Medicines: Tending the Life in Front of Us), the biggest part of the book, Feghali documents in detail matriarchal knowledge, practices and traditions that are related to female health including pregnancy, birth and postpartum care.
Birth assisted by experienced traditional midwives (“Dayeh”) used to be the norm and is now practically non-existent, as hospital births have long supplanted it.
Raqs Baladi (local or folk dance), dreams, divination and the importance of the Virgin Mary as an archetype of the Mother, are also discussed in this section.
“This book is not only relevant for anyone who is living in Cana’an or has experienced living in diaspora; it is a poignant and timely contribution in the wider context of witnessing brutal genocide, ecocide, climate change, and living in a post-pandemic world”
Finally, in Part IV (Soul Medicine and the Ritual of Belonging), Feghali discusses how to deal with feelings of displacement. She describes local mystical traditions as soul healing practices, the importance of community life, and nurturing a connection to the environment around us.
Readers will enjoy the chapter about the majestic Cedar of Lebanon, in which she recounts her regular pilgrimages to the Cedars of Bsharri.
This book is not only relevant for anyone who is living in Cana’an or has experienced living in a diaspora; it is a poignant and timely contribution to the wider context of witnessing brutal genocide, ecocide, climate change, and living in a post-pandemic world.
As the world has become more and more urbanised and disconnected from nature, and as the loss of traditional knowledge and practices continues, readers can find inspiration and guidance through Feghali’s words.
The tools and practices documented in this book can help us stay anchored in the life around us, and continue to honour and reconnect to ancestral practices as a form of resistance, ensuring the continuity of our lineages, and creating vibrant futures for the next generation.
In short, this book is a wonderful guide along the path to remembrance of our origins, empowering us to heal through intentional connection to our community and environment, find a new meaning to the word “belonging,” practice our role as stewards of the Earth, and co-create resilience and nurturing possibilities.
The land lives in our bones, waiting for us to activate its healing and bring freedom and liberation for all.
Maysan Marouf is a freelance writer, researcher, and yoga teacher, with a background in environmental sciences and a special interest in traditional plant knowledge, holistic health, and personal development