Hildegard von Bingen
I was not raised in the church, not even close. Sunday mornings at my house were spent on horseback in the woods, going as fast as we could. The closest experience I had to a sermon was being lectured to about piercing my own nose… at summer camp… in an outhouse. But since a young age, I was always academically fascinated with organized religion. I grew up in a small, New England town and nearly everyone I knew went to church. The mythology—as well as the socio-political impacts—were still deeply ingrained in our culture in the late 90’s and early 2000’s.
Around this time I didn’t have faith in anything other than nature, astrology, and tarot. My burgeoning spirituality was experimental, but I found myself drawn to animism, feminine divinity, and the inherent storytelling.
I’ve always seen visions, waking dreams, ghosts. It’s something I genuinely believe most people have the ability to do. I’m also a person who recognizes patterns and sees through-ribbons, or the lack thereof. But it wasn’t until I was 23 that I finally learned about Hildegard—coincidentally at the time she popped up several times in different conversations, in art I had seen, and a song I overheard, all in different contexts—and connected the dots through so many of those visions.
At the turn of the 12th century, a girl about eight or nine years old was given to a small Benedictine monastic colony in the Rhine Valley of Germany as the student and ward of their magistra, Jutta. It was common practice at the time in medieval Europe; middle class families securing their social position by gifting a daughter to the church. However, neither the abbot nor the girl’s family anticipated that Hildegard would become a prolific writer, an influential speaker and advisor, as well as a visionary artist and composer.
At Disibodenberg under the mentorship of Jutta, she began her work as an herbalist and healing practitioner. She helped to grow the apothecary, hospital, and the reputation of the tiny monastery—as well as a reputation of her own. She was an advocate for the wellbeing of her patients and her sisters, and a renowned teacher. Such independence and repute was both a gift to the monastery and a thorn in the side of the Abbot.
When she was thiry-eight, upon Jutta’s death, Hildegard was appointed abbess by the nuns. Giving her further autonomy and developing deeper tensions between her and the Abbot at Disibodenberg. It was also around this time that she confided in a monk named Volmar, who would become her lifelong friend, that she had been having visions since the age of three. Many of these visions included a bright and violent light, and she would suffer an accompanying illness for days or weeks afterward. Current theories suggest that she was suffering from migraines, as opposed to seizures. She told Volmar that God had instructed her now to record these visions.
And Volmar was like “Sit tight, I’ll get the vellum and the ink!”
As well as being a talented herbalist, doctor, natural scientist and visionary, Hildegard was also a writer and composer. She is the author of the oldest surviving morality play; some 77 lyrical poems; numerous musical compositions in monophony; several books outlining her visions; two major medical treatises about human health and the medicinal properties of plants, animals, and stones in the Rhine region; and volumes of letters to statesmen and clergy across Europe. While it is speculated that she had Volmar or other monks do the physical writing for her while she dictated, being a woman author at the time gave her intimidating power and she was careful to build supportive relationships with regional leaders.
While there are many arguments about the complex and damaging nature of organized religion, specifically Christianity and Catholicism, Hildegard made it very clear that just because she was a member of the church did not mean that she was anybody’s mouthpiece. She broke away from the cramped little monastery where she had spent over 40 years of her life, and built her own to accommodate the increasing size of her cloister. Technically, she didn’t hold the title or authority necessary to do this, but Hildegard found many allies in the families of her nuns and high-ranking clergy who believed in her visions, and saw no reason against her teachings, which were quite radical.
Through her art, writing and teaching, Hildegard imparted strong arguments about the institution of religion being elementally feminine, and that the men in positions of religious authority had abused and ruined it. She saw herself and her cloister as the embodiments and keepers of the divinity. Rumor had it, she allowed her nuns to wear their hair down and adorn themselves with flowers, crowns and jewelry; which royally pissed off all the tight-assed, old-school magistras and abbesses around Europe. But Hildegard didn’t flinch and urged them to look at the natural world, “god loves beauty, so why wouldn’t we adorn ourselves?”
Her most lasting contribution was the concept of Viriditas: the Divine Green. She believed strongly in the interconnectedness of the myriad functions and organs within the body as well as the connections between the body and one’s environment. Hildegard professed that being close to and in alignment with nature would ensure good mental and physical health. She believed that when one used herbs and plants to heal the body, the moment of communion between the body and plant was Viriditas. The image of the lush greenness of nature was used as a symbol in her work both for physical wellbeing, fertility and growth, as well as for healthy spirituality and divine connection.
Was she gay? Maybe. Did she say some problematic stuff about morality? Sure. Was it mostly directed at men? Yeah. Did she write about and paint the church humanized as a woman who had been raped and abused by the men responsible for protecting her? You betcha! Did she advise all kinds of old witchy folk medicine for healing under the guise of “God told me to?” Yep. Did she piss off a lot of people? Absolutely!
I’m so honored to call Hildegard of Bingen one of my guides, and I hope to share her knowledge and contributions with others.
On September 17th, I take the time to go out into nature and appreciate the read from her Scivias, listen to her music can honor Hildegard by tidying our home apothecaries; cleansing and adorning ourselves,especially in green; munching on some spelt bread, whole grains, or drinking herbal tea; listening to her music if you’re a real freak like me; and taking some time to consider what practices around our health are serving us, what lifestyle habits are just extra clutter, and how we can align closer to the needs of our immediate environment. Our personal health is reflected by our planet’s health, so grab that dust-pan, it’s time to clean out some stuff.
