All the Medicine in the Jar

So much goes into the making of an herbal medicine.  If it is a common plant I’m collecting in the wild, I make sure I know the population there well—is it established enough to be able to spare some for me?  Is it looking healthy this year?  There are many questions to ask yourself and ways to evaluate before you decide to pick the leaves or dig the roots.  I always make sure to take just what I need, and never more than 1/3 of what is available.  Whether wildcrafting or gathering from the garden, I make a prayer first, and an offering, thanking the plant for giving itself for medicine, and asking if it can teach me what it knows.

Next, it’s time to get to work, picking, cutting, digging, chopping.  Sometimes the weather is on my side and sometimes it isn’t.  It’s ideal if I can relax and take my time and enjoy the work, although that’s not always the case.  Either way, however you go into it, the process of spending time collecting and processing the plant always transforms you.  It slows you down, makes you pay attention, and gets you into a rhythm.  You get to take note of the bees and other insects that are sharing the flowers as well.  You get to notice if deer or bunnies have been nibbling on leaves.

Sometimes I’m gathering by myself but often with others, and that goes into the experience as well.  One of my teachers had a practice of always putting the initials of the people that helped gather the herb on the label that marked the jar along with the name of the plant, date, and percentage of alcohol used to tincture.  And it does indeed make the medicine feel special when you remember what and who went into making it.  I have a batch of goldenrod that was gathered in a class where we spent all morning gathering it, and by the time it was afternoon and we were cutting it up to tincture, a health condition of mine prevented me from being able to do the work of all that cutting.  I remember two friends stepping in and taking over my bunch of goldenrod and cutting it up for me along with theirs.  I still remember that generosity and care I felt, each time I reach for that goldenrod on my shelves.

Another time I was gathering mullein by myself with my dog Bodhi.  It was a beautiful day in a huge field full of tall yellow mullein spikes under a blue sky.  Bodhi was laying between the mullein, tongue out after a romp in the field, watching me move from plant to plant.  It was warm and peaceful and pure simple joy for both of us.  Bodhi passed away years ago, but I still have a little bit of that mullein left, tinctured in a jar.  I pulled it out just the other day for my child’s cough, and my heart warmed immediately, with the memory of that day, just me and my sweet dog outside, and I was so happy to pass that medicine along to my child.

So whether you are using one of my tinctures, or making herbal medicines of your own, keep in mind that it contains much more than just the chemical constituents of the plant itself.  It includes respect for the earth, awareness of who we’re sharing it with, gratitude, friendship, and memories.  And may all this combine to bring you just the healing you need!