Mullein as physical and vibrational medicine
It is -5C outside. The snow is about 8 inches deep and the perennial herbs from last year’s bounty are shielding themselves from the winds and chill. I stay at the back door looking out, scanning the frozen landscape when suddenly, I burst into laughter. Standing tall, in the middle of all the snow is the lone Mullein I planted last year in hopes of getting a strong vibrant patch in the one area where the sun touches first in the spring. Well, aren’t you determined, saucy Mullein!!
Mullein (Verbascum thapsis) an excellent medicinal plant, was one of the first herbs to touch me in all my senses. It always gave the impression of being strong-willed, determined, and able to withstand great adversity. After an initial introduction and brief teaching whenever I looked, there it was. When I look back at that time, it seems as though I only had eyes for Mullein.
Over the years, formal and informal herbal education has given me a new appreciation for Mullein. This amazing plant has been used in many vibrational medicines from the Plant Medicine Shop. I learnt from Rosemary Gladstar that Mullein oil is excellent for earaches and so using the energy of the Sun, I made enough to use at home. From Jim MacDonald, I read about the benefits of Mullein (roots of the first year rosette) for lower back pain, the excellent respiratory benefits from Dominion Herbal College, and the best writing I can find on Mullein from Kiva Rose. Her description of Mullein not only touches on the physical benefits but the spiritual energetics as well. Most importantly, Mullein itself has given information about its unique healing capabilities and each time I connect to the spirit of Mullein, it takes my breath away. It is also the only herb that always makes me laugh.
The Spirit of Mullein tells me that it is comforting and nurturing. It teaches confidence and an increased sense of self-worth. It relays a strong physical presence. I have used Mullein as vibrational medicine with great success in my remedies.
I am reminded, as I look out at the remaining visual of what’s left of the sole herb I planted that it has spread its seeds all around. Hopefully, not too far so that I can search the ground for the signs of first-year growth; dig up a few the following spring before they’re ready to stand tall once again. With joy, I sense that my education with this plant will continue.