The Pagan Heart Callum's Herbaria

September-October 2005 Issue

Callum's Herbaria By Callum Mostyn     Dydd da. Croeso i Callum's Herbaria. I'm Callum, and welcome once more to my Herbaria. What a month this has been - I have been rather ill for most of it, and what time I had healthy I spent looking after my parents who both developed some nasty chest infection. I must confess I had little time to devote to my column and offerings for the magazine. So I hope you'll forgive me if this issue the Herbaria stands rather bare. I shall endeavour to make up for it next issue when the Solstice is upon us, with all the fragrant smells and tasty offerings the season brings. The herbs under consideration this issue are an unusual grouping - you may have noticed I rarely pick ones that would ordinarily be put together. My thinking on this is that too often we fall into the trap of using the same combinations for the same purposes. The old melody, "Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme" comes to mind. It is so simple to act on auto-pilot rather than think outside the aeroplane. Mind you, being outside the aeroplane is certainly not for everyone, but, when you have a functional parachute it's an exhilarating experience that brings epiphanies and new understandings. This applies to the art and craft of Herbalism and aromatherapy as much as anything else. Remembering to listen to our inner intuition is important. So too studying and learning about the lessor known uses of our growing friends. Sometimes an illness doesn't respond to a tried treatment, or a ritual is less than spectacular. Think on it and consider that maybe the "rut-like" nature of your automatic response in reaching for the same standard herbs is partially to blame. Take the humble herb, tarragon. Great with chicken or fish. Sometimes used as a standard "homey" house-type spell. You know the kitchen witchery dishes aimed to generate a feeling of comfort and security? Most the uses for tarragon revolve around protection, or soothing nerves, healing overwrought emotions, and other such stuff. But what about its role as an aphrodisiac? Yes, tarragon is a paragon of lust. Mixed with mushrooms and garlic in a vegetarian dish it certainly awakens the tastebuds, as well as the libido, leading to an erotic and exploratory evening (if you're lucky). One of the standard ingredients in many love and lust potions and spells is ylang ylang. I don't know many people who know of its other uses, yet ylang ylang is an incredible healing oil that not only calms the mind and body but brings restful sleep. Noticing the contradictory nature of these herbs yet? It has always interested me how often one side of a spice, herb, or oil will become popular and almost drive out knowledge of the other. What I find is that the homeopathic idea of using like to cure like applies almost always in magical matters. What brings on passion, fevered states, and other unbalancing symptoms of human nature can often be applied to reduce those states. And vice versa. The oak is another plant - often considered a strong protector, vibrant and energising, healing and a bringer of life, it is just as capable of being used to winnow out the chaff, so to speak. Ever noticed that not much grows in the midst of an oak forest - save oaks of course? The oak changes the soil to prevent other plants taking hold. In spring and summer it drowns out the sunlight in a sea of rustling leaves, and in autumn it floods the soil with mounds of fallen foliage. In some versions of the Arthurian mythos, Merlin was imprisoned by Nimue within an oak tree. Think on that for a moment - how powerful would the oak need to be to contain such a mage? Take note of this for this is an indicator of the role the oak can play in ritual. Oaks are powerful trees who are too often rolled up into this pretty, fluffy, summery image of warm protective feelings. It does great diservice to forget the oak is a living avatar for many gods, and like the gods it is neither good nor bad. Its power can be harnessed for many different workings, many purposes, many needs. Just like the birch. It always amazes me how many people think of the birch as a loving tree, all motherly and almost "little". This tree is ancient beyond belief, as are the archetypal Mother Goddesses. The birch may be motherly, but that is not necessarily a comfortable thought. Think mother bear for example. Or the doe rabbit who will consume her unborn (or born) young if the warren cannot sustain new life. Think about exactly what "motherly" means. It rarely equates to some apple-cheeked older woman, all rounded curves and happy smiles. Demeter was being motherly when she wrought the first winter and almost killed all life - she only wanted her daughter back afterall. And mothers can be conniving, sneaky, underhanded, and treacherous. The birch is indeed a powerful ally, especially when its other side is tapped - not always safe, mind you. Lastly, sandalwood - the old standby for consecration, purification, and protection. Handy as a healer, and nice smelling to boot. Such a serious load to carry. What about its frivolous nature though? Great to raise spirits - even better as a party herb...not to smoke but to burn. Sandalwood tends to bring out the inner child, making it ideal as a way to help break the ice and increase the conviviality of a gathering. It also makes a pretty good cleaning herb - for helping shift those stubborn odours and stale areas of negativity. Next time you pick up a packet of herbs, step outside the spice cabinet for a moment and think about what else you could do with the. Experiment a bit, and have fun. Da boch, my friends, and bi bheannaithe!

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