I haven’t made a lot of medicine this summer. Since getting ill in the Spring and being in bed for the entire summer, my usual harvests and seasonal rituals have fallen to the wayside. I mourned this at first, but lately I have been time traveling through my apothecary, conjuring up medicines from prior years. Tasting end-of-summer in Maine with a drop of chokecherry cordial. Enjoying the very last spoonful of lilac honey made two springs ago. Sipping a tisane of self-heal flowers and fir tips that were dried last year. Today is my one year wedding anniversary. I can’t help but think about all of the medicine making that went into preparing for our ceremony: Dan and I spent many hours (and seasons!) harvesting herbs and crafting items for the ritual itself and for the communal feast. Today I am burning the incense that we made for our wedding; a rosy smoke fills the house.

 

Our romance and mutual seduction had utmost emphasis on the sensuous from the start; for months before we met in person we sent each other perfumed letters and poems with dried herbs tucked in between pages for the other to burn by candlelight. We are both moved by the texture of fragrance — making our own incense for our ceremony felt necessary for shifting into ritual time and space. We planned on having a communal procession through the apple orchard, right to the center, where we were to be wed. We envisioned our incense bearers lighting the incense at the start of the procession, so that our guests who walked behind us would be touched by the deep medicine of smoke before the ceremony began. What felt sweet about this particular crafting is that we worked with plants that are resonant to our relationship; we harvested a lot of the medicine ourselves and called upon plants that held significance to us both. Making incense is a craft that takes time, but it is a craft that deepens our experience of time and sparks our attention to the holy; it is well worth it to me….

 

If you aren't here for the incense inspiration, I do want to offer a gentle reminder that my pre-recorded class on autumnal plant magic, Veil Opener, is still available! It's all about plants to help us meet the fall season with myth and magic. Comes with a downloadable pdf of rituals, recipes, stories and poems to help you sink into the dark time of the year. Access to the recording is forever; so watch it now, watch it on the winter solstice, watch it again next year…. weee! 

 

So on the eve of the autumn equinox, in honor of deepening time and slowing down, read on to learn about crafting ceremonial incense…. 

 

With smoke & autumn, 

x Liz 

The type of incense I most enjoy making is called Kyphi. Kyphi originates in ancient Egypt. I was in herb school when I learned of it and tried making a batch; I didn’t do a great job the first time but I have gotten better at feeling it out over the years. Kyphi is both a food and incense; it is made from a mix of flowers, barks, resins, roots, berries and other fruits, honey and alcohol (can be wine, mead, a herbal cordial, or whatever suits your fancy). The idea is that you can use what you have harvested throughout the year - you do just need to make sure all your herbs are dried before making your blend.

 

Kyphi is easier to make in two parts: wet and dried. You will eventually be mixing these parts together, but each part requires time to sit on their own so they can infuse and get even more potent before combining!

 

We will start with the dry ingredients. The dry ingredients can be a mix of any flowers, leaves, roots, barks or resins that you have. You will want one well-packed cup of dried herbs total — I think having at least half of the cup as resin is helpful for the burn capacity of the final incense that you make. But each batch is different depending on what you are using and you can play with the ratios as you see fit.

When complete, take all the dried mixture and place in a capped jar so that the spirits of the plants mingle and infuse. Let sit for at least one week. 

 

For the wet ingredients, you will use any dried fruits, berries and yummy herbal honeys or elixirs that you have on hand. You want about a 1/2 cup or 3/4 cup of fruit mixture. We used a blend of dried elderberries, cherries and dates. Again, use what you have! All of these were well-chopped; the smaller the better. Pour the liquid of choice over the fruit mash. We used a blend of a chamomile mead and creosote honey to make up the liquid— ending up using about a quarter cup more liquid than the amount of fruit. In total, we added 1 cup of honey/mead combo to the fruit mash, mainly because we knew the dried fruit was going to soak up and rehydrate from the liquid. Cap the wet ingredient jar, and let sit for at least a week.