The Quiet Power of the Thistle

Thistle & Butterfly

There is a quiet kind of comfort I find in the sight of a thistle.

Whether it’s nestled in the grass by a lay-by, swaying gently in a wind-blown meadow, or standing alone on a rugged hillside, the thistle always makes me pause.

I feel drawn to it's natural and powerful reminder of ancestral power.

I then feel a stab of regret perhaps that the noise of my world, both inner and outer , interrupts my deeper and more aligned reflections. I forget who I am and where I come from.

I feel the pulsing vibrancy of my heritage, proudly washing over me.

I feel the vastness of connection challenge the wastefulness of current minor complaints.

My perspective of my inner power is renewed. I am humbled. I am vulnerable.

As a Scot, the thistle is more than a national emblem to me, it’s a psychically felt part of me.

A symbol that whispers of strength, rootedness, and the grit it takes to grow in hard places.

It reminds me of who I am, where I come from, and the resilience and wisdom that runs deep through both land and lineage.

The Thistle’s Story

Legend tells of an invading Norse army in 1923 sneaking through the Scottish landscape barefoot until one stepped on a thistle and cried out, alerting the Scots and turning the tide of battle. Whether myth or truth, the story reflects what the thistle represents, an unexpected protector, a quiet guardian, and a reminder that what looks fragile holds unquestionable strength.

In therapy, I often think of the thistle when working with those who have built their own protective outer layers. Sharp spiky edges and layers of protection formed, not from aggression, but from necessity. Like the thistle, they’ve learned to survive in hard ground.

And like the thistle beyond the spiky clothing lies beauty, depth and life.

Growing in Harsh Places

Thistles thrive where other plants won’t. Poor soil, dry winds and overlooked verges are the places where the thistle quietly takes root and grows. It reminds me that if the conditions allow it, growth can occur. Healing doesn’t wait for everything to be just right.

We begin where we are, with where we have. Growth is neither linear or neat.

It is the unseen ugly cries and emotional fever of woundedness and pain.

Sometimes it's a hard-won moment of rest. It is the betrayal experienced in life and the harsh brutal echo of loss.

Other times it's a sudden and expansive epiphany of self-discovery and unquestionable knowing.

Sometimes, growth is the courage to ask for help.

When we go to therapy, it is often due to intense, messy, uncertain places and a desire to tame them. We can feel unseen, misunderstood, or unheard in our inner wildness, even by ourselves.

I believe healing often begins, not only in moments of extreme pain, but in the small act of being witnessed, holding your uncertain space, your fear and not retreating from the prickliness of pain but witness to your whole unedited rich story of your survival and confusion.

A Symbol for the Work

I chose and mindfully hold the thistle as a quiet symbol in my therapy space, because it holds the spirit of the work I hold dear. It speaks of resilience, tenderness, complexity, and slow, meaningful transformation. I offer fully the core conditions of Empathy, Unconditional Positive Regard and Authenticity to support growth.

For those carrying invisible wounds, navigating the world through the lens of neurodivergence, living with loss, or holding the weight of care for others, the thistle offers a gentle reminder:

You’re allowed to be both strong and soft.

You’re not difficult for needing protection.

You’re growing, changing.

And that’s enough.

It was always enough.

Continue your Journey