Wormwood
Due to the last few years of natural disasters, social upheaval and medical distress, the importance of relationships is quite clear. Individuals who found themselves alone or disconnected have suffered deep trauma.
The animal and plant world has been a source of joy and healing for me. Certain plants have drawn me in, capturing my attention and changed me physically, mentally and spiritually. One such plant is Wormwood.
Sweat to the smell but bitter to the taste, Mother Wormwood has been generous. I have experienced her aromatic oils via teas, tinctures, fresh leaves and homemade absinthe. Wormwood-infused balms have even helped alleviate joint pain in my hands.
Wormwood has a complex spirit. Culpepper attributes her governance to Mars, and I can see why. The plant is well known for its aggressive anti-parasitic and liver-cleansing properties. However, the botanical genus and name (Artemisia Absinthium) feel rather apt. The dream and mind-altering effects experienced from ingesting the herb suit a Greek hunting and luna goddess. In the forest of Artemis, you could meet the Green Fairy.
Recently, a curious interaction with one of the Wormwood plants in my garden caught me off-guard. I had just pruned the Rosemary and Rue and was about to clip dried Wormwood stalks when a friendly but assertive thought thrust into my mind. "Save the cuttings; they protect", and a vision of a wreath of Wormwood flashed within my inner sight. Those who have communed with plant allies would know the feeling of this non-verbal communication. So I trimmed the plant and soaked the dried stalks overnight. The following day the stalks had softened and were wrapped and woven into a loop. After a few days of drying, stating my intentions and thanking Mother Wormwood, I bound the wreath in red dyed natural wool.
The wreath now lives in my office, hung above my work desk as a sentinel. As with all defensive wards, I hope that it's never activated. But if it does, let it strike true like the arrows of Artemis.
