More Than Growing Crops: Lessons from the Midwest Women's Herbal Conference

Every year, I look forward to attending the Midwest Women’s Herbal Conference in Wisconsin, and

every year it’s difficult for me to go. Held the week before Memorial Day, it falls at one of the busiest times of the year for a farmer. The seedlings need to be planted, equipment and fields need maintenance, and there are always fifteen things that either won’t get done or will turn into much bigger problems while I’m away.

And yet, I’ve decided this conference is non-negotiable.

It’s not only essential for my continued education as a farmer and an herbalist, but perhaps even more importantly, it’s an act of self-care that helps sustain me through the growing season. Spending a week in the company of fellow healers, herbalists, and regenerative farmers, and simply wandering through the woods listening to the plants for a while, soothes my spring-frazzled nerves better than any amount of chamomile tea ever could.  I’ve also come to realize that investing in myself is also an investment in my farm.  When I come back rested, inspired, and filled with new knowledge, everything I grow benefits from it. 

One of the aspects I appreciate most is that the conference is entirely organized and led by women. For me, there’s an energy and connection created there that feels deeply rooted in the long tradition of women as keepers of herbal wisdom and caretakers of the land. The conference honors those traditions and creates a space to share knowledge, explore new practices, and reaffirm our commitment to caring for the Earth. The focus is on approaching plants not simply as commodities to be grown and harvested, but as living members of an interconnected ecosystem.

With as many as eight classes or intensives offered during each session, along with keynote presentations and discussion groups, the hardest part is deciding what to attend. Every discussion, whether it’s about medicine making, botany, or cultivation, is centered around the same central idea: healthy people begin with healthy soil, and healthy ecosystems depend on reciprocal relationships with the land. Rather than forcing the land to produce, we’re encouraged to observe first and listen to what the landscape is already telling us.

For me, that’s the very heart of farming.

One of the most meaningful lessons I continue to carry home each year is the invitation to slow down and truly know the plants we grow. Beyond identifying species or understanding their medicinal properties, we’re encouraged to engage all of our senses—to notice where a plant chooses to grow, the insects it attracts, the feel of its leaves, and even the subtle ways our own bodies respond in its presence. This kind of careful observation, and yes, energetic connection, helps me become a better steward of my farm because it allows me to recognize the needs of my crops before problems arise.

The conference continually reminds me that sustainability isn’t just about farming practices; it’s about perspective. When we see ourselves as participants in the ecosystem rather than separate from it, our decisions naturally shift toward long-term stewardship instead of short-term gain. No matter what we grow, observation, patience, biodiversity, and respect are every bit as important as production.

Every year, leaving the farm feels impossible, but every year, I go anyway.  And every year, I return home with pages of notes, new ideas for my farm, and renewed gratitude that I make this pilgrimage every May. I’m deeply grateful to FARRMS for helping make that journey possible this year. Their investment in continuing education doesn’t just benefit one farmer, it strengthens the broader community by encouraging stewardship, innovation, and a deeper connection to the land we all depend on.