🌿 Saturday Herbal Lore Herbs, history, and the way people actually used them Mugwort Mugwort has a long history of being used by people who wanted clearer dreams, sharper instincts, and better awareness. Not peace. Awareness. It shows up across cultures in dream work, travel rituals, and practices meant to help people “see more” rather than feel better. Here’s the part people skip: mugwort doesn’t decide what you see. It just turns up the volume. That’s why some people love it and others swear it off forever. If your mind is already busy, mugwort doesn’t tuck it in. It hands it a microphone. Historically, it was respected, not treated like a cute bedtime herb. People used it with intention, and usually not every night. Rosemary Rosemary has been tied to memory and remembrance for centuries. Weddings, funerals, courtrooms, and sickbeds. That alone tells you this wasn’t a “spa herb.” It was a witness herb. People used rosemary to stay mentally present. To remember promises. To keep their thoughts sharp when emotions were heavy. Modern research backs this up. Rosemary scent can improve alertness and memory, which explains why it smells like focus, not relaxation. If rosemary makes you feel more awake than calm, that’s not a flaw. That’s accuracy. Lavender Lavender gets marketed like it’s here to soothe everyone equally. History disagrees. Lavender was used where stress was unavoidable. Sickrooms. Crowded homes. Places where people were tired, tense, and overwhelmed. It wasn’t about bliss. It was about coping. Some people feel calmer with lavender. Others feel oddly irritated or overstimulated. That’s because lavender doesn’t numb. It regulates. If your nervous system is already running hot, regulation can feel uncomfortable before it feels helpful. That’s normal. Lavender isn’t broken. It’s honest. Thyme Thyme has long been associated with courage and strength. Which makes sense when you realize it was used by people going into battle, long journeys, or hard work.

Alright, gather round the metaphorical kitchen counter. We’re talking herbal tinctures, aka “how humans figured out how to trap plant goodness in a jar and call it medicine.” Just plants, patience, and a little alcohol doing the heavy lifting. So… what is a herbal tincture anyway? A tincture is basically herbs soaking in alcohol long enough to give up their secrets. The alcohol acts like that one friend who gets everyone talking at a party. You end up with a strong, shelf-stable liquid extract that lasts years, not weeks like tea. This is why herbalists love tinctures and why your cabinet starts to look suspiciously like a bar. What you need (nothing dramatic) A clean glass jar with a lid Mason jars are fine. No crystal required. Herbs Fresh herbs (chopped) Or dried herbs (even easier, less water) Alcohol Vodka is the crowd favorite. Brandy works. Everclear if you’re feeling bold and respectful of math. A label Because “mystery brown liquid” is not helpful later. Time. Not much effort. Just time. How to make it (the no-nonsense version) Step 1: Fill the jar If using fresh herbs: loosely fill the jar about ¾ full. If using dried herbs: fill about ½ full. Do not pack it like you’re stuffing a suitcase. Step 2: Add alcohol Pour alcohol over the herbs until they are completely covered, plus about an inch on top. Herbs floating above the liquid = sad herbs. Step 3: Seal it and wait Put the lid on. Shake it gently like you’re reassuring it. Store in a dark cabinet. Shake it once a day if you remember. If you forget, the herbs will forgive you. Step 4: Wait some more Let it sit 4–6 weeks. Yes, weeks. This is herbalism, not instant coffee. Step 5: Strain Strain through cheesecloth, a coffee filter, or a fine strainer. Squeeze the herbs. They’ve given everything they had. Pour the liquid into a clean bottle. Step 6: Label it Write: Herb name Alcohol used Date Future-you will thank present-you. How people actually use tinctures A few drops in water or tea

Chocolate Mint Real name: Mentha × piperita ‘Chocolate’ Which sounds fancy and important, and then you smell it and go, “Oh… yeah, I get it.” First of all, no, it does not taste like a chocolate bar. I don’t know who started that rumor, but they hurt a lot of people. What it does smell like is mint with a soft cocoa note. Cozy. Comforting. Like mint that gives hugs. This is the mint you use when regular peppermint feels like it’s yelling at you. Chocolate mint is gentle. It’s the “let’s calm down” mint. The “maybe we don’t need to panic” mint. The mint you reach for when your stomach is doing that slow, dramatic flop after you ate something you absolutely knew better than to eat. I love it as a tea. You toss some leaves in hot water, walk away for a few minutes, come back feeling like a responsible adult who makes choices. It helps with digestion, bloating, stress, and that weird tight feeling you get when the day has been too much but you’re pretending you’re fine. It’s also great just to smell. Crush a leaf between your fingers, breathe it in, and suddenly the world feels slightly less stupid. You can throw it into iced tea, fruit, desserts, or water if you’re feeling fancy. It plays well with chocolate, berries, and anything that needs a fresh little lift without being slapped in the face by mint. Now, a warning because this plant is sweet but unhinged. Chocolate mint will take over your yard if you let it. It spreads like gossip. Always plant it in a pot unless you want to spend the rest of your life pulling mint and apologizing to your neighbors. I found that out myself..lol Also, if mint normally messes with your acid reflux, listen to your body. Herbs are helpers, not bullies. In short: Chocolate mint is calm. Chocolate mint is comforting. Chocolate mint minds its business. And honestly, we could all learn something from that. © Herbalism with Lori