Dreaming with the High Priestess

It was the High Priestess that taught me how to look into and beyond the images presented in the tarot. When I began my tarot studies with my Smith-Waite deck - at an age that feels both more distant and yet just passed at the same time - I followed the instructions in my first tarot book to perform a pathworking (i.e. a western esoteric tradition word for guided meditation that originated from specific practices of moving along the paths of the Tree of Life as illustrated in Kabbalah) with each card. I did just that and it’s something I’ve continued to do in my own practice and have taught it to my students, too, because I think it is so useful in magickal and healing work. As I was learning this pathworking technique, there were some cards that were my favorite to travel into and the High Priestess was and is one of them. 

Perhaps it is the watery nature of the card that my Piscean heart adored or the fact that I knew early on in my life that I was to one day take vows of a Priest/ess/x. It was an easy, dreamy card for my little witchling self to connect with and I loved learning about the symbolism of the card from the pomegranate’s on the fabric behind the High Priestess, to the Moon beneath their feet, and the pillars framing the scene. 

Decks shown are the Brady Tarot + Smith-Waite Centennial Edition

Then, one journey into the card, I was overwhelmed by the sound of the sea. Suddenly I saw what had remained hidden, but seemed so obvious now. The sense of vastness I got whenever I journeyed into the card was not just because the High Priestess represented a library of arcane wisdom that I was so eager to read, but that they were, more importantly, a keeper of the gates of which beyond was a vast sea to explore. I had been looking at the card all this time but not really seen it - in the process, I had missed an entire world beyond the surface of my initial viewings of the image. 

Such is the way of things, right? We think we are seeing all of it until we look again and find that the world is far more vast than originally thought. As a card of Moon, a representation of our consciousness, the High Priestess teaches us how to connect with the vastness both around and within us through the lunar path of dreamwork. Even more importantly, the High Priestess does this in a way that’s not about keeping secrets or revealing them, but teaches us, instead, how to read our world and discern knowledge through observation.

One of the primary herbs that I use to connect with the energy and healing magick of the High Priestess is Mugwort (Artemisia spp.). My favorite way to work with Mugwort is through herbal baths - I’ve shared a recipe for just that below. Tarot has long been rich in plant imagery and the Smith Waite deck illustrated esoteric knowledge of plants through its art, adding yet another layer of knowledge to the intricately layered world of the cards. If you’re enjoying all of this talk of plants and herbs, you can check out my full profile for the High Priestess from my course, The Tarot Apothecary, by joining my free Magick Mail newsletter. You’ll then gain access to a member’s only page full of recipes, rituals, and more. 

The High Priestess profile from The Tarot Apothecary

Mugwort Dream Bath

Mugwort is one of the most revered of dreaming herbs in the western materia medica. I am lucky to live in a part of the world where native and migrating versions of the plant thrive, which is why I use three varieties in my dream bath blend. I prefer to bathe with Mugwort when it comes to dreamwork, but for those of you who feel more tethered to the waking world than the one of dreams, you might also try it in tea form. 

I included Anise Hyssop (Agastache foeniculum) in the blend for a number of reasons, not least of which for its lovely smell. It’s a plant of Mercury with Venusian energies meaning that it helps us clear out and connect our pathways of communication (Mercury) through gentle, warming, and uplifting methods (Venus). It has a bit of a guardian energy to it, too, which is always useful in dream work and exploring the vastness of our inner realms.

Juniper Berries (Juniperus communis) round out the blend with their rich purple-black color reminding me of the Dark of the Moon. Juniper serves as a holy herb for burning in Celtic cultures, clearing the air of impurities and cleansing the energetic body. The plant helps us to remember our dreams and understand what they mean. As a Dark of the Moon herb, Juniper assists us in connecting to our depths through dreamwork. 

Decks shown are the Many Queens Tarot and the Numinous Tarot

I combined roughly equal parts of the following herbs, but adjust the amounts of each herb depending on what you have available. If you don’t have multiple varieties of Mugwort to use, simply use more of the variety that you do have.

• Mugwort (Artemisia vulgaris)

• Dream Plant (Artemisia douglasiana)

• California Mugwort (Artemisia californica)

• Anise Hyssop (Agastache foeniculum)

• Juniper Berries (Juniperus communis)

Use 1/2 to 1 cup of herbs for a bath. I brew the herbs ahead of time in a jar, strain out the herbs, and add the infusion to my bath water (you can get all my tips and tricks for herbal baths, including bathing with herbs without a bath here). After a dream bath, I suggest going right to bed, spending some time journaling or maybe even pulling a few cards before heading off to sleep. For an extra layer of magick, you can even build a little dream altar ahead of time featuring the High Priestess and a dream pillow full of Mugwort to keep beside you bed.

☾

I hope you’re feeling inspired to look deeper into your tarot cards and, in turn, deeper into yourself. Using dreamwork as a tool of self-discovery is not only effective, but an ancient way of self-knowing. May you seek and find your High Priestess waiting for you to see beyond.

Lunar Teas + Slow Magick

At the beginning of this year I was feeling the least magickal that I have in quite some time. To be honest, the last two years have been full of rewarding adventures and some truly challenging experiences that have stretched my “keep-it-together” capacity. 

On top of that, as I’ve been getting back into in-person teaching after a hiatus, I found myself struggling to find my flow again as a teacher. Including, finding myself struggling again with a resurgence in the dreaded imposter syndrome that so many of my fellow generation seem to experience. Not a pleasant place to be in especially considering that teaching in-person classes has traditionally been one of my absolute favorite things to do and is typically a time that I feel most comfortable and confident in myself. 

It’s easy when we come to these places of spiritual malaise to seek out something to fix it now - whether that’s a new shiny crystal or the latest book on magick or thinking that if we scroll through pinterest or instagram for hours we may suddenly find it. 

(I have, ahem, never done any of these things.)

(That last statement was entirely untrue.)

At some point I found myself returning to something which I know and love - making herbal remedies - to try and recenter. Now you might expect at this point of the story I will tell you that  I spent a blissful afternoon making tea as sunlight danced across my apothecary table and a song blossomed in my heart. Alas, twas not the case. I did make tea - a brew inspired by the Moon in hopes of falling back in love with my magick. But I felt lackluster. I combined nine carefully chosen herbs, for that is the sacred number of the Moon, in my large silver bowl and stirred and sang over them. But it felt like I was going through the motions.

As I stirred, I couldn’t shake that feeling running up and down my spine that I wasn’t enough.. Or the creeping sensation that I had lost my magick, never to be found again. 

But I still made that batch of tea. I brewed it and tasted it and decided that it was ok. Over the next few months, though, I somehow started to believe that it was one of the worst teas that I had made. I shoved it back in my herb cabinet, not wanting to waste the herbs, but not sure what to do with it quite yet. 

A few more months passed and I had another class to teach. It happened on the heels of a rough few days of bittersweet revelation. I needed to bring tea to the class and did not have time to create a new blend. I saw the jar of lunar tea sitting on the shelf and grabbed it. As I was brewing it for the class a strange peace settled over me and I had the feeling that it might just be ok. That I was ok.

The class gathered, the tea was served, and I left a few hours later feeling more like myself than I had in a very long time. And folks loved the tea - I ran out of it before the class was even halfway over.

Walking home after class, carrying a heart full of  healing vibes, and an empty tea canister, I was reminded that magick can be sudden but it’s most often slow. It requires us to trust in the long run. Magick asks us to trust in our future self even when we’re uncertain about who we currently are. And while magick doesn’t provide a predictable journey it’ll always provides a path. 

My experience with that Moon-inspired tea pulled together a lot of personal lessons that I’ve been wrestling with the past few years. It also helped me to re-member (to put back together), as the Moon so often does, my joy of slow magick. A magick that takes time. A magick that refuses to speed up to fit the needs of culture or fade. A magick that shows up in uncertainty and charts a path towards resiliency. A magick that asks more questions than provide answers.

I found myself dreaming up and planning classes that I had been too hesitant to consider before. And reconnecting to the truth that what I teach has value (if for any other reason than it brings me joy).  I’ve found myself wanting to write more openly about particularities of my spiritual path and what being a Witch and Priestx means to me. I started with a story on instagram about my spiritual geas (something which is both a prohibition and obligation, a restriction - or curse when particularly difficult - and gift) when working with crystals. Within it I mentioned a need for a slow magick movement within our magickal community. The conversations that sprung up around that post were amazing and this next year I’m going to spend time diving into the idea of slow magick with all of you (you can start to read some of my thoughts here). But for now, let’s make some tea…

Luna Love Spell Tea

A Moon-inspired tea of nine sacred herbs to help you fall back in love with your magick.

Combine all herbs and brew between 5 - 20 minutes.

• 4 parts Lemongass (Cymbopogon citratus)
• 1 part Damiana (Turnera diffusa)
• 1/2 part Honeysuckle (Lonicera japonica)
• 1/4 part Blue Lotus (Nelumbo nucifera)
• 1/4 part Lemon (Citrus x limon)
• 2 parts Passionflower (Passiflora incarnata)
• 1/2 part Lavender (Lavandula x intermedia)
• 1/4 part Jasmine (Jasminum spp.)
• 1/4 part Mugwort (Artemisa vulgaris)

May you fall in love with your magick again, wise ones and witch kin. I hope you'll join me on my journey this coming year through the world of slow magick. There'll be tea, new types of content (hiya, videos!), and a renewed commitment to a magick that is in pace with the values of love, fierce justice, and radical kindness that has drawn us altogether in the first place.

Herbs of the New Moon

By the light of the New
we renew and grow...

With the popularity of my Making Medicines by the Moon post, I thought I would follow-up with a series of posts exploring herbs of each Moon phase, staring with the New. I've also added a very brief look at the original Greek Medicine Energetics which informs some of the ways that Traditional Western Herbalists categorize herbs by the Moon. Looking for a deep dive into the energetics of Traditional Western Herbalism? Come this way.

Herbs of the New and growing Crescent Moon are excellent for most any remedy-making endeavor as the power of the brew will grow with the Moon’s waxing. Remedies such as stimulating brews, warming bitters, energizing nervines, restoratives, alteratives, and remedies for new beginnings, for children, and to jumpstart vitality are especially auspicious. 

Traditionally, the New Moon is a time of hot and moist herbs. The tradition I am referring to is Greek medicine with its four element system of earth, air, fire, and water and its corresponding qualities (or energetics) of cold, dry, hot, and moist. The Moon was linked to the seasons of the solar year. The New Moon, representing a time of birth, youth, and vigor, straddled the season of spring into summer which moved from the time of water (represented in the west as the time of spring) to the time of fire (represented in the south as the time of summer).

Side note: If you’re a modern Pagan (like myself) who works with the common elemental correspondence system where east is the direction of spring and air and west the direction of autumn and water you’ll have to do a bit or rearranging in your brain to grasp this system.

When I correspond herbs to Moon phases I don’t rely solely on the traditional categorization of herbs by their temperature and quality. Instead, I incorporate my knowledge of the magick of each herb as well as its medicinal uses and the energetic signature of each Moon phase, which you can learn about in my original post on making medicine by the Moon.

I also work with the six tissue states of Traditional Western Herbalism (TWH) which builds upon the Greek system while incorporating Galenic (as in the Roman herbalist Claudius Galenus), Culpeperian (made that term up, but I am referring to English herbalist Nicholas Culpeper), and the United States physiomedicalism tradition (aka reformed Thompsonianism which was begun by US American herbalist Samuel Thompson and refined by Dr. Alvah Curtis and further codified by Dr. Joseph M. Thurston). I highly recommend studying Matthew Wood’s The Practice of Traditional Western Herbalism: Basic Doctrine, Energetics, and Classification for an in-depth understanding of tissue states. The six tissue states have various names, but I use the following combination names which link back to the original Greek quality system while incorporating more modern physiomedical actions. I will also include the other names that you might find these tissue states referred to in your studies.

The Six Tissue States of Traditional Western Herbalism

• Hot/Excitation (Irritation, Choleric)

• Cold/Depression (Melancholic)

• Dry/Atrophy (Atrophic, Sanguine)

• Damp/Relaxation (Lax, Atony)

• Damp/Stagnation (Torpor, Torpid, Bad or Impure Blood, Phlegmatic)

• Tense/Constriction (Wind, Sanguine)

Since I also work with the tissue states and Lunar magick, I am interested in experimenting with the tissue states in correspondence with the Lunar phases. It is an ongoing process, and I am not seeking hard rules but general guidelines. Here are my following New Moon tissue states correspondences:

The New and growing or waxing Crescent Moon strengthens the Hot/Excitation and Damp/Stagnation tissue states.

The New and growing or waxing Crescent Moon alleviates the Cold/Depression and Dry/Atrophy tissue states.

I wrote about the tissue states briefly in Morning Mischief, but I’m currently writing up a tutorial that I have been teaching to my offline students on using the six tissue states of TWH and incorporating astroherbology for the Lunar Apothecary. It has been a really fun ongoing experiment and one that has proven useful again and again in my practice.

Herbs of the New + Waxing Crescent Moon

Milky Oats (Avena sativa) : Oats are not generally associated with the moon, but as a warming and moistening nutritive tonic that builds the blood and alleviates nervous exhaustion, I find Oats to have a special affinity for the New Moon. As the New Moon calls us to begin a cycle of emergence and to slowly expand our energy after a period of waning contraction, Oats are richly nutritious, lending us foundational strength for the work ahead. The generous nutritive qualities of Oats give us a hint to its magickal uses, too, which are primarily for prosperity and abundance rituals. Read the full Milky Oat plant profile.

image via botanical.com

Ginger (Zingiber officinalis) : Ginger root stimulates an underperforming circulatory system, moving blood and heat throughout the body. Ginger awakens the senses and calls the body to action! It clears out lingering colds, damp conditions, clears catarrh, and lifts the spirits wherever dourness or melancholy might dwell. If you want to use the heating properties of Ginger, but are someone who already runs dry, reduce the Ginger content of your brew while adding in moistening herbs like Milky Oats or Angelica.

Blessed Thistle (Cnicus benedictus) : Blessed Thistle can be a great choice when you want to take advantage of the clarifying and clearing energies of the New and growing crescent Moon. The eliminatory powers of Blessed Thistle act as a purifier of the blood. In combination with its skin-opening diaphoretic properties, Blessed Thistle helps to re-establish balance or homeostasis in the body. The herb is also a nervine and can be used to relieve spastic pain and headaches, especially when brought on by nervous tension. Blessed Thistle relieves brain fog and has a markedly uplifting effect, perfect for greeting and working with the energies of the New Moon. 

image via botanical.com

Lavender (Lavandula officinalis) : I love Lavender for all phases of the Moon, but for the New Moon I think of it as a great nervine for the performance anxiety that the energy of the New Moon can bring on. For some of us new beginnings are a welcome change of pace, whereas for others it is a big cave o’ uncertainty. Wherever you may fall, Lavender can soften the sharper edges of the Moon’s slicing crescent energy, helping us to focus on what needs to be done without getting overwhelmed by the details.

Angelica (Angelica archangelica) : Angelica is another example of an herb that falls under the traditional interpretation of a New Moon herb as hot and moist. Angelica is more warm than hot but were still in the same neighborhood. I’ve posted a full plant profile on Angelica as part of my Plant Ally Project: 30 Day Challenge.

Need more Moon medicine and magick in your life? Heck yeah! Join me and a circle of starry-hearted magick-makers in the Lunar Apothecary.

Look for my posts on each phase of the Moon and their herbal correspondences in the coming months. In the meantime, have fun reading up on the art of astroherbology or making your own herbal remedies.