“Lavender for calm; Rosemary for strength and remembrance; Sage for wisdom and clarity; Orange Peel for light and joyfulness; Cinnamon Bark for warmth and pizazz, Bay leaf for protection; Clove for deepening patience.”
A pinch here, a handful there, a large grip here, a smidgen there… each herb makes its way into a pot of water. Soon to be simmered so that the rising steam can infuse the house with aromas of prayer and intention. If the words didn’t broadcast this spell then perhaps the smells wafting in and out of awareness can manifest.
It’s called a simmer pot. While the imagery of the words may have led you to that of a witchy woman casting a spell over a smoldering cauldron – this is a simple ritual rooted in European lore to honor this time of year. Imbolc, Saint Brigid’s Day, Groundhog’s Day, Candlemas, the Snow Moon… The beginning of February marks the return of the sun, the stepping towards Spring, and still, patience and moving through the starkness of lingering cold weather. It calls upon the stowed away dried herbs to be with us as we call in the creative projects ahead.
Admittedly, my journey with herbs didn’t start with this recognition of lore. My psyche still has to process the naming of a witch as one who works with plant medicine. And, my practice in herbalism extends beyond my European ancestors.
From studying plant ecology and the science of plants, my entry into herbalism started as a necessity for healing. Stubbornly sticking to what I knew (wild plants, cultivation, and personal experiences learning about plant uses in equatorial countries), it has been an ongoing process embracing the practice of herbalism rooted in European nature-based traditions. Or, should I say, through my practice as a clinical herbalist, studying the sciences, farming, foraging and teaching this knowledge; it is fundamental to include the story of people’s relationship to all of this. Hence, the importance of lore.
It has been my experience that some aspects of lore come with stereotype (such as the depiction of the witch and the cauldron being “evil”). Perhaps this is why I continue to think over the stories associated with herbalism. What is real? What is true? And through living a life rooted in the land and working with the plants, I am finding the question that I keep coming back to is “what is my truth?”
The seasonal shifts bring about change in our environment (be it in the wild or in the city). Bringing awareness to what’s happening naturally and using that as symbolism for life’s seasons has been a profound experience for me. I can further track these lived experiences with stories of folk traditions and cyclical celebrations.
In times of distress and uncontrollable circumstance, I give thanks to these simple traditions that ground me in my reality and truth. So, tell me, what stories and traditions are real for you?
In gratitude for the bulbous flowers,
Rachael