The Herbs and the Herbalist

This post is partly a continuation of some of the themes discussed in the last one. Particularly concerning the challenges of obtaining the herbs that I need. There are a number of other older posts in which I've also touched upon related topics. Collectively they tell a story. I am using some examples of how the medicine moves in my life to answer some common questions that I am often asked by students, specifically relating to what herbs to use, how many, where to get them, and to what degree someone should prepare medicines themselves or obtain them from other sources. I'm putting this out there because I know that there are many other people asking the same questions. Hopefully, it will help others who are considering or already walking the path of the herbalist, or anyone who wants to deepen their relationship with plant medicines for personal use or interest, or other reasons.

Like some of my other posts, I am going to begin with broad strokes, laying somewhat of a philosophical and sometimes esoteric context in order to explain why I do things the way I do and what things you might want to consider when addressing similar choices. Then I will get a lot more practical towards the end.

Before I begin, I want to be clear that living the medicine is a very personal journey. There are many different systems of herbalism and each of them has its strengths and limitations, as do individual herbalists who practice these systems. Herbalism is very multifaceted. There are paradigms within paradigms within paradigms; based on world views, cultural differences, etc. However, I tend to view the overriding paradigms of various herbal traditions as existing somewhere within a circle consisting of two intersecting continua: holistic to reductionistic (i.e. treating people vs. treating symptoms), and material to spiritual (i.e. plants and people as a bunch of chemicals vs. plants and people as being both physical and spiritual beings). The paradigm of modern medicine, which largely evolved from herbalism, is located in the extreme lower left quadrant of this circle. In contrast, indigenous and traditional systems of healing fall somewhere in the upper right quadrant.

Herbalism Paradigms: The blue dot represents my initial orientation as an herbalist. The green line represents the evolution of the medicine

as I have gained greater experience and deepened my relationship with the herbs and the land. The green dot represents my current orientation.

The red dot represents the paradigm of modern medicine. Most, if not all, systems of herbalism will fall within the shaded portion of the circle.

The systems of herbalism that fall in the lower left quadrant tend to be those that operate from a more medical paradigm. They often define themselves as "medical herbalism". That being said, I know many herbalists whose training is in some form of medical herbalism who are very holistic in their approach, and sometimes even spiritual. Most systems of modern traditional herbalism tend to fall in the lower right quadrant. For lack of a better way to describe them, we could refer to those systems that fall in the upper right quadrant as "shamanic herbalism". I use that term because it more or less describes systems of herbalism that not only subscribe to a more spiritual or animistic philosophy, but they also incorporate ceremony and other spiritual elements into their practice. Shamanic herbalism is not the same thing as shamanism. It refers to systems of herbalism that have shamanic elements. However, in the context of indigenous systems of healing, the line between what constitutes shamanic herbalism and shamanism is pretty blurry.

I have to admit that I am not completely comfortable using the terms "shamanism" and "shamanic" because they have been considerably abused in the last couple of decades. Also, many indigenous healers are not comfortable with these terms because it comes from a particular tradition in northeastern and north central Asia. Although there are common elements in indigenous healing traditions from around the world, there are many differences as well. So, using a single term to refer to them has considerable limitations.

Regardless of where a particular system of herbalism fits within this circle, there will always be variations on every theme. A good student will learn a system as best they can, and then through continued learning, experience and (hopefully) intuition, make it there own. As with any skill or profession, there will always be those people who don't feel it in their heart and just go through the motions. It's like reciting a prayer with no feeling or expanded awareness. It becomes just words. However, there are many people who truly live the medicine and it would not be inaccurate to say that there are as many systems of herbalism as there are herbalists who live the medicine.

Traditional cultures are rooted in the land. So is their medicine.

For every herbalist, the medicine expresses itself differently. It is informed by the personal and ancestral history of the herbalist, the traditions of their teachers, and the culture and any subcultures that they are part of. These are the personal elements. It is also informed by the herbs that they use. However, traditional cultures experience the world in a different way. They know that everything is related, interconnected, and that our sense of individual identity is largely an illusion. Traditional medicine is informed by the land where the people live: the plants and animals; the plains, hills and mountains; the rivers, lakes and oceans; the grasslands, forests and deserts; and the living and ancestral spirits of the land.

In the mixed up world that we live in we have largely disengaged from this experience ­­- but it doesn't have to be that way. Instead, we can follow our heart and find that place where the land calls to us and stay there. When we approach the land in silence with humility, reverence, love and awe, it will speak to us if we learn how to listen. It takes time. A long time! We need to demonstrate our commitment; walk the land; get to know its different moods through the seasons, year after year. We also need to get to know the inhabitants of the land: the plants, animals and other beings that live there. If we want to go deeper, then we need to offer more than just our time, awareness and love. Through prayer, sacred offerings and ceremony we can open up to the land in ways that transcend the limitations of our logical mind and physical senses. Eventually, every step we take on the land becomes a prayer, a ceremony.

The medicine that I practice is not my own, although I am a part of it. It is my work, my path and my life. As I experience it, each expression of the medicine is unique in time and place. It includes the Earth, the Sun, the spirit of the land in a particular region, the ancestors of that land, the herbs, the practitioner, and those people who seek healing. It encompasses all of these and more. As a practitioner, I am both a part of the medicine and a conduit through which it is made accessible. As my relationship to the plants and the land deepens, so the manifestation of the medicine deepens as well.

Yellow gentian (Gentiana lutea) is a European species that won't grow where I live. I must obtain the dried root for making the tincture
because the North American species that grow in the region where I live are not plentiful enough to harvest.

When I first started practicing, I worked with about 120 herbs. Like most Western herbalists at that time, the largest portion of the materia medica that I learned consisted of European herbs, probably about 60%. Of the 60%, about 30% were plants that have naturalized in Ontario where I live, 20% plants that could be grown here, and 10% plants that won't grow in our climate. About 25% of the remaining herbs that I was using consisted of North American herbs, 15% which grow in the region where I live and 10% from other parts of the continent. The remaining 15% was an eclectic selection of herbs from South America, Africa and Asia, most of which can not be grown where I live.

I always had a deep connection with Nature and I felt it was important that I have a similar connection with the medicines that I use. Although the nature awareness and spiritual elements were not part of my original training as an herbalist, I was developing these aspects of my life in parallel and learning how to integrate them with my work. This process was one of the most challenging aspects of my work. It took years of deepening my relationship with the medicine and patiently listening to what the herbs and the land were teaching me. It would have been easy to impose my own ideas and I had to constantly guard against that. However, when I did slip up, the results very quickly made that apparent. I've had to learn not to push the energy, but to allow it to unfold in its own way in its own time.

Turmeric (Curcuma longa) can't be grown in a temperate climate, but the organically grown fresh rhizome is available from commercial sources.

When I started practicing back in the 80s, I was ordering dried herbs and making my own tinctures. I also took the tincture of every herb that I made for a couple of weeks to get a deeper experiential connection with the medicines. At the same time I began a process of connecting with the plants in the region where I live. I would go out in the woods with a backpack full of plant identification books and manuals, walk into the fields or woods and try to identify every plant I didn't know. Sometimes it would take me hours just to walk a few metres. I recorded the botanical name of every plant that I was able to positively identify. When I got home, I would research each plant and record any information that I could find from about 200 herbals and technical reference books that I had. In this way I began to develop a data base of information on the plants that grow in the region where I live.

At the same time I continued to develop my relationship with the plants, the animals and the land. I spent lots of time wandering and sitting on the landscape. I attended and performed ceremonies and made offerings in accordance with the rhythms of the world around me: the solstices and equinoxes, the lunar cycles, and to honour powerful beings on the landscape such as rivers, waterfalls, lakes, cliffs, caves and ancient grandmother and grandfather trees. I sat with them, spoke to them, sang to them, prayed to them, meditated with them, made tobacco and other offerings. The plants, the land and the ancestral spirits became my chief teachers. I was skeptical at first. Not because I doubted the possibility of such communication. I had enough experience and had the opportunity to learn from a number of elders who were more adept in this realm. My doubts were about my own capacity to accurately receive and interpret these teachings from the plant realm. However, I very quickly learned to trust these communications because whenever I listened, the healing results were greatly expanded.

Siberian ginseng (Eleutherococcus senticosus) is a native of northeastern Asia but can be grown in temperate North America.

In this way the medicine gradually unfolded. One of the first things I learned was that I needed to work with fresh plants as much as possible as their healing capacity is much deeper. I was also instructed that I must gradually introduce more herbs that grow or are grown in the region where I live and replace most of the exotic herbs in my materia medica, and to wild harvest most of them. This is not an intellectual process. It's not about what I think or want. I must wait for the plants to offer to be part of the medicine. Neverthess, this relationship can be challenging at times. For example, one of the herbs that I know I must work with is blue vervain (Verbena hastata) and I have written about this herb in the Making Medicine series of blog posts. There aren't a lot of places that I know where this herb is plentiful. It is one of the herbs that I mostly obtain by "water walking", meaning I walk upstream or downstream through a creek or river so that I can harvest herbs that grow along the banks. Blue vervain tends to grow in little clumps here and there close to the shore. I usually have to go water walking several times, each time obtaining enough to make a couple of litres. About 10 years ago I was really concerned about being able to continue to use this herb. I started doing research on white verain (V. urticifolia), which is more common in this region, to see if it is similar enough to either combine them or use it as an alternative. However, I still needed to honour my relationship with blue vervain. That year I had particular difficulty making enough tincture. I visited this herb near the end of the season and offered prayers and tobacco and explained my need and asked for guidance about how to proceed. The next year when I went out harvesting the amount of blue vervain that was growing in the areas where I harvest it increased by two to three times! I also discovered a decent patch a bit off the beaten track in an area where I regularly wild harvest. When we work with the medicines in this way they listen and help. They are part of the medicine too, and they take their responsibility seriously. As long as we do our work, they will support us. Blue vervain used to be one of the medicines that I used in moderate quantities. Now it is one of the herbs I use the most. By the way, it did turn out that the properties of white vervain are almost identical to those of blue vervain.

Ox-eye daisy (Leucanthemum vulgare) is a Eurasian herb that has naturalized in eastern North America.

Gradually, as I was called to use more local herbs, it became apparent which ones I need to stop using as well. Today the profile of the herbs that I use is very different than it was when I started. When I recently did an inventory of the tinctures that I have on hand, there were 102 (45%) native herbs, 81 (35%) that are naturalized, 28 (12%) that are grown locally, and 19 (8%) that are not available locally. 182 (80%) of my tinctures are wild harvested and 46 (20%) are organically grown. 202 (89%) of the tinctures are made from fresh herbs, 19 (8%) from dried, and 7 (3%) from both. The latter group are herbs that are available locally but not in sufficient quantity to meet my needs. In these cases I will usually make some dried herb tincture as well and press them together so that the tincture I use is a mixture. I try as much as possible to do that in a 2:1 ratio (fresh:dried) but sometimes have to do 1:1 or even 1:2.

Of the various tinctures that I have on hand, I only use 150 of them in my practice. Of these, 88 (58%) I use in a relatively low quantity (0.5-1.0 litre per year), 43 (29%) medium (2-4 litres per year), and 19 (13%) high (5-8 litres per year). The remaining 78 I only have a small quantity of (usually 250 ml) for research purposes. Some of them will eventually become part of the medicine. My relationship with the ones I don't end up using is different. They want me to make information available about them so that other people will start using them again, as this is part of their purpose.

Heal-all (Prunella vulgaris) is a circumboreal herb that is native to the temperate regions throughout the northern hemisphere.

Notice that the largest proportion of herbs that I work with I use in relatively low quantities. Some of these are herbs that I feel are indispensable in my practice but I can't harvest them in sufficient quantities, either because large populations aren't very common in this area, or because they are difficult to harvest in quantity. A good example of the latter is heal-all (Prunella vulgaris). This herb is very common, but it's a small herb and the portion that we harvest is very small as well (the flower spike and first pair of leaves) which makes it difficult to harvest in quantity. Like many herbs from the mint family, it is also fairly low density due to lots of air spaces in its tissues. This makes the harvested portion even lighter than a similar amount of some other herbs. I know that it is important for me to have this herb available, so I keep it on hand and use it sparingly. The other herbs in the low quantity group tend to be specialized herbs that are used for very specific applications. I really need them when I need them, but not very often. They add a significant level of versatility to my practice.

The 62 herbs that I use in moderate to large quantities are the herbs that I use more than 90% of the time. Theoretically, I could base my whole practice on these herbs. Most herbalists have a small group of herbs that they use the most. I recommend to my graduating students that they begin their practice using about 50-60 herbs that they feel most drawn to and then branch out from there as they gain more experience. It means that they need to know their herbs very well so that they can treat virtually any person that comes their way. Fortunately, herbs are not as limited as you might think from the general herbal literature. They tend to be very versatile, having dozens of properties and hundreds of applications.

Common purple coneflower (Echinacea purpurea) is a native of central North America. I have established a wild population on the land where I live.

Because I make all of the medicines myself and harvest almost all of them as well, I have to devote a considerable amount of time to this part of my work. Their is usually a fairly narrow window when an herb is ready to be harvested, typically a few days to a couple of weeks. During that time I have to harvest whatever amount of each herb that I will need to prepare enough tincture to last me at least a year, which is when I will next be able to harvest it (actually enough for 15 months because I allow at least 3 months for a tincture to macerate before pressing it). With roots and rhizomes there's more flexibility. They can be harvested any time from when their aerial parts have almost completely died back until the ground freezes. Also, whereas the aerial parts of herbs need to be macerated withing a couple of hours of being harvested (for some herbs less), roots and rhizomes can be stored in a cool place for a couple of days as long as they remain moist and they aren't washed until we are ready to process them. This is great because they are a lot more work to harvest! They need to be dug up, washed and allowed to dry before we can use them to make a tincture. Being able to spread the work out over a couple of days makes it a bit easier. I can spend one day travelling and digging up several herbs and the next couple of days processing them.

I schedule clinics on Thursdays. Typically, I see 5-7 clients per day. However, when I am travelling a lot I need to schedule the odd Wednesday clinic in and my client load goes up to 7-8 people per day. Until last June, I also had a student clinic scheduled every second Saturday. In order to be able to prepare enough tinctures to meet my needs, I spend about one day per week harvesting the medicines from mid April to mid May; two days per week from mid May to mid June; three days per week from mid June to the end of July; two days per week in August; one day per week in September and October; and then it's back up to two days per week in November. All of this needs to be coordinated with the weather and the rest of my life! Among other things, in recent years my work has required me to travel a lot during the time of year when I am doing all of my harvesting. That means that I have to harvest even more days during the weeks that I'm not travelling. To be able to accomplish this, during harvesting season I have to minimize the amount of days that I have a fixed schedule, such as clinic days and scheduled classes and workshops. During the peak harvesting season when I am not travelling I do my best to allow four to five days per week when I have nothing in particular scheduled so that I can head out on a moments notice whenever the herbs and the weather align! Fortunately, a lot of the work that I do is flexible and can be scheduled around my harvesting days. Also, the advanced students who are completing the clinical part of their program are required to harvest and prepare some tinctures for their student clinic. It only amounts to a small percentage of what they use, but it does reduce my work load a bit. Now that the clinical portion of the program is organized differently, no tinctures are required for the student clinic until the new version of the student clinic begins in a couple of years. This will reduce my load for awhile as well, but it also means that I am making them all myself.

Wood nettle (Laportea canadensis) is a native of eastern North America.

This year I was not able to harvest as many herbs and prepare as many tinctures as I had intended. This was due to my intense travelling schedule and the unusually cool, wet weather that we had in this area. I managed to make 90 litres of tincture from herbs that I wild harvested; 7 litres from fresh herbs that were organically grown locally [rosemary (Rosmarinus officinalis) and cayenne (Capsicum annuum)]; 17 litres from organically grown fresh herbs that I had to purchase [turmeric (Curcuma longa), ginger (Zingiber officinale), American ginseng (Panax quinquefolius) and sweet basil (Ocimum basilicum)]; and 21 litres from organically grown dried herbs. The proportion of dried herb tinctures is normally nowhere near this high, but I harvested a lot less herbs than usual this year, and last year I allowed much of my dried herb tincture stock go down to almost nothing.

I will have to cut back my use of some herbs this year. There is also a good chance that I will run out of a few of them before I am able to harvest them again or before some of the tinctures that I prepare next year are finished macerating. I am going to have to use other herbs as substitutes, which means that I will need to use a litre or two more than usual of some of the tinctures of which I have a bit of surplus stock. Fortunately, I do have a bit of surplus stock of some of them. It is still going to be a very intense harvesting season next year!

Mayapple (Podophyllum peltatum) is one of the more specialized herbs that I rarely use due to its very high potency and potential toxicity.

However, sometimes it is indispensable. I use it for very deep conditions of the liver and spleen, and for a number of types of cancer.

In addition to all of the harvesting and macerating tinctures, I also have to spend about 4-5 hours, 3-4 days per month pressing and filtering tinctures. The time commitment to make all of these medicines is very high even though I'm only seeing an average of 6-8 clients per week. I figure, making medicines the way I do, if my work consisted solely of seeing clients it would not be possible for me to see more than double the number of clients that I am currently seeing. In my case a lot of my work involves teaching, but if someone were called to practice full time making medicines this way, it is definitely possible to make a living seeing 12-16 clients per week, and they'd (hopefully) be doing what they love. I think that's worth it! Nevertheless, spending this much time making medicines is challenging. This is why many herbalists make a lot of their tinctures from dried herbs, or purchase bulk fresh or dried herb tinctures from commercial sources. Ultimately, it is up to each herbalist to find the path that works for them.

Notice that I specifically did not say "choose" the path that works for them. To "choose" our path would require following our head instead of our heart. It is my experience that the path of the herbalist, or any path for that matter, is a calling not a choice. I have experienced this in my life and witness it on a daily basis in the people around me. In Western society we are taught to think our way through life and make many important life decisions based on fear rather than following our heart. It is one of the major reasons why there are so many unhappy people in the world today and one of the major causes of chronic illness. We live our life like an island at our peril. The consequences of this way of living are all around us.

Resinous polypore (Ischnoderma resinosum) is a fungus that has been calling me for several years. This fall I finally

got the call to harvest it and make some tincture. There isn't much information available on its medicinal properties.

It will probably be a year or two before I am familiar enough with it to start integrating it into my practice.

For anyone who is called to deepen their relationship with the plant people, or to follow the path of the herbalist, the most important advice I can give them is to quiet their mind, listen to their heart, deepen their relationship with the land and the plant medicines, and allow the medicine to unfold through them. In this and other posts I have given examples of how the mystery of the medicine manifests in my life. That isn't to say that this is how it will manifest for everyone. We are all unique and the medicine manifests through each of us in unique ways. There is no "right" way for everyone. For some people wild harvesting might not be appropriate or even an option. Maybe the only way they are able to offer their healing gifts is by using tinctures or teas made from dried herbs. That's OK. There are ways of working with herbs in any form, or even without form, that allow their healing to come through in a deep and meaningful way. The most important thing is that we develop our own relationship with the medicines. They will teach us how the medicine can best manifest through us.

The themes that I discuss in many of these posts are interwoven like a complex tapestry. Together they tell a story of herbs, healing and the interrelatedness of things. Many of my previous posts address some of the themes that I have discussed here in different contexts and from different angles. If you find yourself drawn into this world I encourage you to go back and check out some of the archived posts. Happy solstice and happy reading!

Chaga and the Wild Harvesting Dilemma

There are many wild spaces where I love to walk and, when necessary, harvest herbs. Whenever I explore a new area or trail, I keep a record of what species grow there. For those herbs that I use in my practice, I will also estimate the approximate amount (in litres of tincture) that can be sustainably harvested from the area of any species that are growing in sufficient quantity. Since plant populations change, I update these records every time I visit an area. As someone who wild harvests almost all of the medicines that I use, this information is very important to me. I maintain a data base in which I keep track of it.

Every year I try to visit a few new areas. This is partly because I want to deepen my relationship with the region where I live and one of the ways I do that is to get to know its diversity of landscapes and ecosystems. However, in exploring new areas I am also keeping track of the medicines that grow there. I like to have as many locations as possible to harvest each of the medicines that I use so that I don't have to harvest them in any particular region more than once every few years. I am extremely anal about respecting the medicines and making sure that they are harvested in a sustainable manner. I have written about this in more detail in my post Wild Harvesting Herbs.

In my practice I use several medicinal fungi. One of the fungi that I harvest is clinker polypore (Inonotus obliquus), better known these days as chaga. The name chaga is an anglicized version of the Russian version of the name of the fungus in the language of the Komi people of central Russia. Since this fungus has been popularized as chaga, very few people know its English name.

Clinker polypore (Inonotus obliquus), better known as chaga.

Chaga is a fungus that grows primarily on birch trees (Betula spp.) in the region where I live. It has been used for various purposes by many traditional peoples throughout the temperate and subarctic regions of the northern hemisphere where it grows. Until the last decade or so, most people in our society had never heard of it. However, it has become popularized in recent years, which is not a good thing! This fungus grows very slowly and is difficult to cultivate. In addition, so far the medicinal properties of the cultivated fungus are significantly inferior to the wild harvested fungus. Another concern is that this is not your typical wood rotting fungus. Most of the conks or bracket fungi that grow on living and dead trees are actually the reproductive organs or fruiting bodies of organisms that grow as a network of filamentous mycelia beneath the bark or through the wood. When we harvest the fruiting body of a fungus, we are not harvesting the main part of the organism. However, chaga doesn't grow this way. The part that appears growing out of the side of birch trees is not the fruit. It is the actual fungus. Chaga rarely fruits and usually only after the tree dies. So, when we harvest chaga, we are harvesting the main body of the organism.

When walking through areas with a lot of birch trees, I used to see a fair amount of chaga. However, in the last couple of years what I am mostly seeing is a lot of trees from which the chaga has been removed and very little chaga itself. This is not simply a matter of a few people harvesting some for personal use. With the popularization of this fungus it seems that there are some people who think of it as a free resource that they can harvest at will in order to make some money. What I'm finding is that most of the people out there harvesting chaga are doing their best to gouge every last bit of it out of the tree. Remember, in this case they aren't just harvesting the fruit and leaving the organism intact. They are harvesting the whole fungus! In addition, they are doing a lot of damage to the trees that it grows on, leaving gaping wounds through which the trees can easily be affected by insects or disease.

When I harvest chaga, I only harvest it in areas where it is plentiful; I only harvest from a small percentage of the fungi growing in the area; and I only harvest part of any given conk and leave 50% or more of it intact. What I'm seeing out there is the result of people harvesting every fungus they can find and doing their best to completely extract it from the tree it is growing on. Needless to say, given that chaga rarely fruits and grows very slowly, this fungus is rapidly becoming scarce in the more accessible areas where it was once relatively common.

Chaga harvested correctly: not cutting too deep and leaving more than half of the fungus intact.

It is ironic that the demand for chaga is due to a growing interest in "natural healing". However, this is the antithesis of what natural healing is really about! Natural healing is about cultivating more balanced and harmonious relationships with ourselves and the world we live in. There is nothing balanced or harmonious about the consumerism driven and disrespectful way that chaga is being torn from the landscape. This is something that many people still don't get. Our lack of health in body, heart, mind and spirit is largely due to how we interact with the world. We live in a society that is way out of balance and as long as we continue to perpetuate the unsustainable paradigm that underlies the status quo we will never really be healthy!

One of the many fallacies of the current Western world view is that we are individuals. It's all about me! It's OK to rape the ecosystem to provide me with what I want. In truth, there are no individuals. Our life depends on the life of our Earth Mother and all of the beings that we share this life with. Everything we do affects everything else and will inevitably come back to bite us if it isn't done with respect and wisdom.

If we are trying to live "green" or "natural" we have a responsibility to investigate the reality behind the latest "green" or "natural" products. We can't necessarily trust the word of anyone who is trying to sell us something. That doesn't mean that they are always manipulative or deceptive - but they often are. Even people who mean well are less likely to dig too deeply into something if their livelihood depends on it. Inevitably, we need to do some research for ourselves. For example: electric cars aren't green or sustainable if they use electricity that is produced by coal plants; solar panels are not green or sustainable if it takes more energy to make them than they will produce in their lifetime, or manufacturing them requires the use of rare and/or toxic elements; shipping exotic "superfoods" half way around the world when there are foods of similar or better nutrient density growing in the area where we live is not green or sustainable - and who knows what environmental transgressions may have been committed where they were grown or harvested? Farming and harvesting practices are not something we can easily verify for plants that come from distant regions. Similarly, wild harvesting foods or medicines on a commercial scale is almost always unsustainable.

Getting back to chaga, the use of this fungus has been popularized in several books and articles, and by the people selling it. As a result, it has become one of the latest and most popular fad herbs. Proponents of its use are recommending it be consumed as a tea and that it be drunk liberally. Some people recommend drinking the tea several times per day for many months or even indefinitely. Looking at the bigger picture, there are several concerns with this scenario. Firstly, chaga is the strongest medicinal fungus that I have used. It is not appropriate for liberal use on an ongoing basis. Like all medicines, it needs to be used with respect. Secondly, using it as a tea requires that it be used in much larger quantities compared to using it as a tincture because the amount of herb required per unit dose is much larger for teas. With the amount of chaga that will keep someone in tea for a few weeks, I can make enough tincture to supply my entire herbal practice for several months! I realize that it was traditionally used as a tea, however, I have found the tincture to be as or more effective at least when prepared by the method that I use (for more information see my previous post Making Medicine, Part 3). Finally, because of the way it grows, chaga simply can not be sustainably harvested on any kind of scale. If we want to harvest a fungus on a very limited commercial scale, it should be one that is very common and produces abundant annual fruitings that can be harvested while leaving the fungus undisturbed. An example of a fungus that might possibly fit into this category is birch polypore (Piptoporus betulinus), which has some similar properties and constituents as chaga, although they do have there differences. However, even "limited" commercial harvesting is not really sustainable because who is going to control how many people are doing it and how much they are harvesting? We're not talking about a village healer harvesting it to supply the needs of a small village in a remote area. If there is a demand for it and money to be made, it won't be long before the amount being harvested reaches detrimental levels. Harvesting the fruiting body might not kill or harm the fungus, but it will reduce its rate of reproduction. In reality, the only fungi that should be sold commercially for medicines and especially for foods (since they are consumed in much larger quantities) are those that have been grown commercially - certified organic of course!

A fruiting of birch polypore (Piptoporus betulinus) growing out of a fallen paper birch (Betula papyrifera) log.

Saying that wild harvesting medicines is unsustainable might sound like a contradiction coming from an herbalist who uses almost exclusively wild harvested medicines! However, what I am saying is that there are very few herbs that can handle being wild harvested on a commercial scale. A few herbalists wild harvesting herbs for their healing practice and a few more herb enthusiasts harvesting some herbs for personal use is sustainable if they are harvesting the herbs in an ethical manner. In fact, these days most herbalists don't wild harvest very many or any of their medicines. There are many reasons for this. One of the main reasons is that it is extremely time consuming. At the most, if I harvest the medicines in a respectful way I can only harvest enough to make a sufficient amount of tincture to practice two full days per week (6-8 clients per day)! Personally, I only practice one day per week. The rest of the time I am teaching and doing other work. Even practicing one day per week a significant proportion of my time is devoted to wild harvesting from April to November. During the peak harvesting periods (May to July and November) it takes up the largest proportion of my time.

There are still a few herbs that I either can't harvest in sufficient quantities to meet the needs of my practice, or for which I haven't found a suitable substitute that grows in the region where I live. I need to purchase these herbs, fresh whenever possible, to make a few of the tinctures that I need. I always purchase these herbs certified organically grown. If I can't wild harvest an herb myself or get it from a certified organically grown source, I don't use it. I never purchase commercially wild harvested herbs.

That being said, due to the increasing popularity of herbs and herbalism coupled with our unsustainable population growth, there may come a time when it is no longer possible for me to continue wild harvesting the herbs that I use. The wild populations of herbs simply won't be able to handle it. At that point I will grow as many as I can and purchase the rest. But I'll still go out there and continue to deepen my relationship with the wild herbs and the lands where they live.

There is no doubt that there are a few wild herbs that can handle some level of commercial wild harvesting at this point. However, there aren't many and a lot of them are not well known or commonly used. The criteria that would need to be met for an herb to fall into this category are: it must be very plentiful and adaptable, more or less invasive by nature; it must prefer to live in the kinds of habitats that humans create when we change the landscape; it must be able to be harvested without negatively impacting the ecosystem where it lives. In North America, most of the herbs that fall into this category are Eurasian plants that have naturalized here, such as common dandelion (Taraxacum officinale), burdock (Arctium spp.) and red clover (Trifolium pratense). In my region, the only native species that I would include are a few species of asters (Symphyotrichum spp.) and goldenrods (Solidago spp.). Obviously, it will be different in different regions. Another possibility is using the parts of some commercially harvested tree species that are discarded during the harvesting process, such as the leaves and young twigs of conifers like white pine (Pinus strobus).

Canada goldenrod (Solidago canadensis) is one of the few native Ontario herbs
that could be wild harvested commercially to some degree.

One of the reasons that people like wild harvested herbs is because there is a belief that their medicinal properties are superior to those of cultivated herbs, even if they are organically cultivated. For the most part this is true, but it doesn't have to be! Wild harvested herbs have a lot more strength and vitality than cultivated herbs even though cultivated herbs may sometimes look better. This is partly because cultivated herbs are often grown in conditions (soil type, moisture, amount of direct sunlight, monoculture, etc.) that are not typical of their natural habitat. However, the main reason is because cultivated plants are pampered. We all need a certain amount of stress to maintain a decent level of health and vitality. Plants are no exception. Too much stress can weaken them, but so can too little stress. For instance, a certain amount of drought stress is good for most plants. How much depends on the species. Watering them every time the soil gets a bit dry usually isn't a good idea. However, letting them dry out completely isn't either. Also, every organism needs some competition. This can be accomplished by careful companion planting. It is also a good idea to allow some "weeds" to grow, as long as they aren't allowed to get the upper hand by crowding out the herbs we are growing, above the ground or below it. Most "weeds" are useful anyway, either as medicines or foods.

So that is my rant about chaga and the ethics of wild harvesting. Once more, for more information I recommend reading my earlier post Wild Harvesting Herbs. In the mean time, the chaga is rapidly disappearing from the more accessible areas of southern and central Ontario. Although chaga is a great medicine when used correctly and with respect, I strongly recommend considering other medicinal fungi that are available from organically grown sources such as lacquered polypore or reishi (Ganoderma lucidum), hen-of-the-woods or maitake (Grifola frondosa), or oyster mushroom (Pleurotus ostreatus).

You might also be interested in my follow-up post More On Chaga and the YouTube video Michael Vertolli On Chaga.

Harvesting Artist's Conk (Ganoderma)

Although I primarily use plant species in my practice, I also use several medicinal fungi. The first group of medicinal fungi that I started using about 15 years ago were several of the Ganoderma species. These are bracket fungi or conks that grow on wood. Of the various members of this genus, by far the most popular is lacquered polypore (G. lucidum), better known by its Japanese name reishi. This species grows on a number of different hardwood trees. Although it is circumboreal, growing throughout the temperate regions of the northern hemisphere, it is rare in the region where I live. As a result, I primarily use artist's conk (G. applanatum) and hemlock varnish shelf (G. tsugae), which are quite common in this area. All three species have similar properties.

I came across this lacquered polypore (Ganoderma lucidum) in mid June this year growing from the base of a

beech tree (Fagus grandifolia). It is one of the few times I have seen it growing in the region where I live.

I have used all three of these Ganoderma species. Lacquered polypore is not common where I live, however, one year I purchased a log that was inoculated with the spores of this species and grew it so that could make a tincture of the fresh fruiting body and compare the properties of all three species. Although it is not as well know as reishi, I actually have a slight preference for artist's conk. However, in my practice I usually use a 50/50 mixture of the tinctures of the fresh fruiting body of artist's conk and hemlock varnish shelf. I sometimes mix closely related species that have similar constituents and properties to increase the diversity of chemical constituents in the medicines that I use. I find that closely related species are often mutually synergistic and the properties of these combinations are sometimes more consistent and versatile than using the individual species.

Hemlock varnish shelf (Ganoderma tsugae) often looks very similar to lacquered polypore, but it grows almost
exclusively on hemlock (Tsuga spp.). The margin is whiter compared to the photo of
lacquered polypore (see above) because this one is still growing.

Artist's conk is one of the most adaptive fungi in terms of the variety of tree species that it can grow on. It primarily grows on hardwoods, but on rare occasions I have seen it growing on conifers as well. That being said, in the region where I live it most commonly grows on sugar maple (Acer saccharum) and American beech (Fagus grandifolia).

Unlike its relatives, the fruiting body of artist's conk is perennial. If the conditions are right it can grow for many years. It is brownish with a woody appearance on top, but the underside is white and somewhat rubbery. If we draw on the underside with some kind of stylus, it leaves distinctive lines that will be preserved if the fungus is dried. This is how it got its common name. I have seen some pretty amazing pictures that were drawn on artist's conk!

Artist's conk used to be one of the most common fungi in southern Ontario. However, in the last few years it has become less common. As a result, I have found it a little more difficult to find good harvestable specimens. I suspect it has something to do with the average age of the forests in our region. From 1980 to 2005 there were a lot of very old beech and maple trees that gradually died off. There aren't that many of the oldest ones left in a lot of the forests that I frequent. This is just my hypothesis. There are probably other reasons as well.

The fruiting body of artist's conk (Ganoderma applanatum) is perennial and can grow for many years.

I use a moderate amount of Ganoderma tincture in my practice. Typically about 4-6 litres per year. Since I mix artist's conk and hemlock varnish shelf, that means I need about 2-3 litres of each species per year. The fruiting bodies of these species are pretty heavy. If I can find a decent supply I will usually harvest enough for two years so that I don't have to harvest it every year. However, this year I couldn't find much good quality artist's conk. I had one litre of the Ganoderma mixture pressed and another litre of this species on hand macerating. I was able to find just enough to make another two litres. Fortunately, I only needed to find one good sized conk to make this amount.

The fruiting of many fungi species is variable. It is particularly influenced by the amount of available moisture. In some years certain fungi may not fruit at all if there isn't enough rain. For instance, a couple of years ago it was very dry in Southern Ontario and the artist's conk, hemlock varnish shelf and birch polypore (Piptoporus betulinus) in the woods around my home didn't fruit at all. But the birch polypore, which typically fruits in August or September, finally did fruit during a thaw in mid January!

A new fruiting of artist's conk (with a friend hiding beneath!).

The new growth along the margin of a fruiting body looks white and rubbery, similar to the appearance of the underside. As it reaches the limits of its new growth it transforms into its typical woody appearance as the white band along the edge gets increasingly narrower until it finally disappears. The spores are released from pores in the underside, which is why it is called a polypore. Apparently the top and underside of the fruiting body have an opposite electrical charge. As a result, some of the spores when they are released are attracted to the top of the fungus. During the peak of its fertile period there is often a deposit of the brownish dusty spores on top of artist's conk.

Another friend: This wood frog (Rana sylvatica) was nearby watching the strange dude photographing fungi!

There is a brief overlap between the period of active growth and the fertile period when spores are produced. This is when I prefer to harvest it. At that point there will still be a very narrow white growth band along the rim, but there will already be a light dusting of spores on top unless it has been fairly breezy. Since the growth of this species is so variable, the point where it is at this stage can be anywhere from mid June to early August in southern and central Ontario. This year I harvested artist's conk on July 12th. It was a bit more mature than when I usually harvest it. The first week of July would have been ideal.

I have found that it is best to only harvest the part of the conk that grew during the current year and the previous year or two. The portion that grew each year can be easily determined by the distinctive growth bands on the upper surface. When it is harvested this way it will continue to grow in the following years.

Sometimes artist's conk grows more vertically and the growth bands are layered on top of each other.

On this one the dusting of spores is visible on the upper surface.

The harvested portion of artist's conk. The yellow stain on the cutting board was from processing

fresh organic turmeric rhizome (Curcuma longa) a few weeks previously.

The underside of the same piece. The discoloration on the lower part is bruising caused
by my fingers when I was holding it while cutting it with my knife.

When we harvest the previous three years of growth, there will often be a portion of the upper surface from two years prior to the year it is harvested that is old and dying. This oldest layer is removed. This is best done with a good heavy-bladed knife like a cleaver or sometimes a serrated knife will work well.

You can see the distinctive growth bands layered vertically in this cross-section.

The upper layer that has lots of white in it is too old and must be removed.

Here's the same piece from above after the older tissue was removed.

Once the older tissue is removed, there are two stages in processing artist's conk to prepare it for making a maceration. It is not possible to immediately start chopping it with a mezzaluna  because the fruiting body has a dense but somewhat rubbery quality. It gives too much to be cut in this way. It is necessary to slice it up into smaller pieces first. The same kind of knife we used to remove the older tissue will work well for this.

Artist's conk after the initial cutting.

Once the pieces are small enough, they can be chopped finer with the mezzaluna. This is much quicker than doing it with the cleaver.

Here it is again after the final chopping.

Some fungi absorb a lot of water. This needs to be considered in terms of how we prepare a tincture because the water content will dilute the constituents in the tincture. Because of this I will step up the potency of these fungi one level. Whereas I primarily recommend preparing a 1:5 maceration (1 part herb to 5 parts menstruum) for fresh herbs, for really wet fungi I will prepare a 1:4 maceration. However, this will further increase the amount of water in the tincture. In order to compensate for this I need to adjust the menstruum as well. For dried herbs I usually use a menstruum consisting of 60% water, 30% alcohol and 10% glycerin. For fresh herbs I increase the concentration of the alcohol and glycerin slightly to compensate for their water content. The ratio I use is 56% water, 33% alcohol and 11% glycerin. Since I primarily use fresh herbs, it is the latter mentruum that I use most of the time. However, with really moist fungi I adjust it further to 52% water, 36% alcohol and 12% glycerin. Hemlock varnish shelf and birch polypore fall into this category, but there are other fungi, such as clinker polypore (Inonotus obliquus), better know as chaga, that are no more moist than the average herb. In the latter case no adjustment of the potency or menstruum is necessary. Artist's conk tends to fall into the middle. If there has been a lot of rain it can be fairly moist, however, sometimes it isn't. Each time I make it I have to decide whether or not it is necessary to compensate for the moisture level.

I have covered the specifics of making a maceration of a fungus like artist's conk. For other more general details on the process of making a tincture, see the Making Medicine series of posts.

Ground ivy is a moderately aromatic herb. Its relatively mild flavour is somewhat minty and musky with just a touch of bitterness. If I have any left over I will dry it and use it to make a tea. I like the taste of ground ivy but some people find it a bit unpleasant. However, it is not overpowering and blends well with many other aromatic herbs.

Many medicinal fungi are moderately to significantly adaptogenic. Although every adaptogenic herb has some specific areas of use, adaptogens also work as general tonics and tend to have benefits for our whole body. However, I have found that for people suffering from chronic health conditions, in order to get the most out of using adaptogens it is best if they are used in the final stages of treatment where they have both specific and generalized actions and help to coordinate the functioning of the different systems of our body. They can also be used as general tonics by people who are relatively healthy.

I have found that the adaptogenic fungi are a little bit different than some of the more purely adaptogenic herbs like American ginseng (Panax quinquefolius). Whereas ginseng works best in a purely adaptogenic formulation, fungi such as artist's conk are excellent transitionary herbs. I use them in formulations at the stage when I am transitioning a person from some other kind of formulation into the final adaptogenic stage of treatment, as well as in more purely adaptogenic formulations.

That's all I'm going to say about the properties of artist's conk. In the Herbal Resources section of my website I have provided a pdf document that you can download that is based on my research and experience with this herb.

Link to PDF file.

Harvesting Ground Ivy

On June 12th I went to one of the areas where I wild-harvest herbs and harvested ground ivy (Glechoma hederacea), better know as creeping Charlie in some areas. This Eurasian species has naturalize throughout much of North America. Some people consider it invasive, especially in shady areas, but it really isn't. It can sometimes be prolific, but it doesn't crowd out other species. It often grows on shadier parts of lawns. If you notice a somewhat minty smell when you are mowing the lawn, you've probable mowed some ground ivy!

This is an herb that I use in moderate quantities in my practice - typically about 4-5 litres per year. It is a very versatile herb and I would probably use even more of it if it wasn't for the fact that it is a difficult herb to harvest in quantity due to its small size. As I still had 2 litres of ground ivy macerating and a bit more already pressed, this year I harvested 5 litres. With herbs that I use in small to moderate quantities I usually harvest a two year supply so that I only have to harvest about half of them each year, but because of difficulty harvesting large quantities of this herb it is necessary for me to harvest it annually.

Ground ivy (Glechoma hederacea) in the early spring before it starts to produce flowering stalks.
The larger, older looking leaves are the ones that have over-wintered.

Ground ivy is fairly sensitive to variations in weather conditions from year to year. In the region where I live it can go into flower any time from mid April to early May. It has a relatively long flowering period, typically flowering until late June or early July.

Although we tend to harvest the aerial parts of most herbs very soon after they go into flower, with ground ivy it is preferable to wait until a bit after the middle of its flowering period. This is because the flowering stalks that we harvest are relatively small and don't weigh very much. It is best to wait until they are almost at their maximum height. I usually harvest it from early to mid June, depending on the weather conditions in any given year.

The young stalks of ground ivy just before it begins to flower.

Fortunately ground ivy has a fairly long period when it can be harvested - typically about two weeks - because, with the unusually cool, wet weather we have been having, there haven't been very many days when the conditions are ideal for harvesting herbs. As a result, I didn't get a few of the herbs that I intended to harvest; but I had to get ground ivy because I use a fair amount of it.

This is what ground ivy looks like when it first goes into flower.

Last year the conditions were the opposite of this year. They were unusually hot and dry. As a result, I harvested ground ivy earlier; on June 5th. It was actually about a week later in its life cycle when I harvested it last year. Had I harvested it at a similar stage to when I harvested it this year it probably would have been about a week earlier, more like the end of May.

Here is ground ivy a few weeks later.

This year on June 12th I headed out to a wilderness area about 15 minutes from where I live to harvest ground ivy. As always, I began by offering tobacco to the spirits of the land and the medicine and asking permission to harvest the medicine that day. After I received permission I headed to an area where the spirit of ground ivy is very strong and there is a large healthy population.

A closer look at our friend. Notice that it has square stalks and opposite leaves, typical of the Mint family.

Although for the most part our spring was cool and wet, we did have a few short periods when it was sunny, hot and humid. The day I harvested ground ivy was during one of those periods. It was very hot that day and I had to be careful not to drip sweat onto the herbs as I harvested them. It was also the first day when the mosquito people were quite present. I rarely use mosquito repellent and only use a natural formulation that I make when I do. However, I never use repellent when I am harvesting herbs. Partly it is to ensure that the essential oils in the repellent I use don't contaminate the herb(s) that I am harvesting. But it is also another way that I give back to the land where I am harvesting. I never intentionally kill biting insects and when I am harvesting I just let them bite me. Eventually my blood will work its way up the food chain, into the soil, and even the plants that live there. The the sacrifice of the plant people when they offer the gift of their medicines is far greater than the little bit of blood that the mosquitoes take from me. In fact, I have a good relationship with the mosquito people and they bite me a lot less than they bite other people. When I'm with other people they hardly bite me at all, unfortunately for the others! When I used to have a more antagonistic attitude towards them they used to bite me as much as anyone else.

The flowering stalks of ground ivy can grow up to 50-60 cm (20-24 inches) tall, but it is best to harvest them when they are about 30-40 cm (12-16 inches) tall. We harvest about the terminal 50% of the stalk. In order to ensure that I do not have too much of an impact on the local population of this herb, I only harvest about from about a third of the stalks in any given area.

The harvested portion of two different size flowering stalks. The top one is 20 cm (8 inches) long,
the bottom one is 15 cm (6 inches).

In preparing herbs to make a tincture there are two stages that can be relatively time consuming. The first is the actual harvesting. Plants for which the harvested portion is small or whose population tends to be more spread out take a lot more time. Of course, we have to include the time it takes to travel to and from the area where we are harvesting as well.

The other stage that can be time consuming is the processing that we need to do with the harvested portion before it can be chopped up to prepare a maceration. There are some herbs from which we use the entire harvested portion. However, these are the minority. With the aerial parts of most herbs, much of the stalk is a fair bit less potent than the leaves and flowers. As a result, we usually have to remove a portion of the stalk. The difference in potency between the stalk and the leaves and flowers varies from herb to herb. The greater the difference, the greater the proportion of stalk that has to be removed and the longer the amount of time it takes to process the harvested portion. The more an herb branches, the more time this takes as well. Ground ivy is about medium in this regard. We do need to remove a fair bit of the stalk, but the stalks do not branch. With this herb it is best to remove the leaves and flowers from about the lower 2/3 of the the stalk. That portion of the stalk is removed and not used. I don't waste anything. The discarded stalks end up in my composter. If I didn't have a composter I would return them to the Earth somewhere at my next opportunity.

The same two harvested portions showing the amount of stalk that was removed.

Once the stalk that we aren't using is removed, the herb is weighed to determine the appropriate amount we need to use taking into account the potency we wish to prepare and the size of the jar that we will be macerating it in.

This is the amount of processed herb required to make 1 litre of tincture at a 1:5 potency.

Then we have to chop the herb up relatively fine before it can be macerated. With the right tools, that doesn't take very long. For more information on the specifics of making a tincture, see the Making Medicine series of posts.

Here it is again, chopped up and ready to macerate.

Ground ivy is a moderately aromatic herb. Its relatively mild flavour is somewhat minty and musky with just a touch of bitterness. If I have any left over I will dry it and use it to make a tea. I like the taste of ground ivy but some people find it a bit unpleasant. However, it is not overpowering and blends well with many other aromatic herbs.

There is not very much information on ground ivy out there. It is primarily recommended for respiratory conditions and inflammation and ulcers of the digestive tract. In my experience, I have found it to be a much more versatile herb than what you might suspect based on the information in the literature. However, this is typical. When I use an herb and really get to know it, I always find that it has many more properties and uses than what is indicated in the literature.

Rather than turn this into a super long post by getting into the uses of ground ivy, in the Herbal Resources section of my website I have provided a pdf document on ground ivy that you can download that is based on my research and experience with this herb.

Link to PDF file.

So, that wraps up my discussion of my experience harvesting my friend and colleague ground ivy. Except for the difference of habitat, the process is very similar to harvesting blue vervain (Verbena hastata), which I described in the Making Medicine series. In future posts I will discuss the harvesting and processing some different medicines that have a range of different requirements.

Making Medicine, Part 2 of 5: Preparing Blue Vervain to Make a Tincture

This is the second in a series of five posts in which I am using the process of wild harvesting and making a fresh herb tincture of blue vervain (Verbena hastata) as an example to explain in detail the process of making medicine. Part 1 in this series was posted on July 9th.

In my practice I primarily use tinctures made from fresh herbs, so the next step is to use the blue vervain that we harvested to make a tincture. When you make as much tinctures as I do, you appreciate good equipment. I have experimented with a variety of tools over the years and will discuss some of them here. I am also going to use the process of preparing blue vervain tincture as an example to explain some of the important details regarding making tinctures.

The basic idea is that we want to separate the more potent from the less potent parts of the portion of the plant that we harvested, chop it up and put it in a bottle with the appropriate menstruum (pronounced MEN-strew-um: the liquid that we use to absorb and preserve the constituents of the herb). As an herbalist, it is important to me that the way I prepare a tincture is consistent so that I know that the tincture of any particular herb that I make from year to year is very similar in potency. There are factors that affect the potency of the herb, like weather conditions, that I can't control. However, if the weather conditions are particularly incompatible with the requirements of a particular herb in a particular year, I won't harvest that herb. What I can control is how I prepare the tincture. In order to accomplish this, the portion of the plant that I use needs to be consistent as must the amount of herb that I use for any given volume of menstruum.

When using fresh herbs, I recommend a 1:5 potency. This means that 1 g of herb is used for every 5 ml of menstruum. There are herbalists who recommend a higher potency for various reasons. However, I disagree with using a higher potency than 1:5 for fresh herb tinctures. I will do a detailed post explaining why I prepare tinctures the way I do at some point in the future, but the bottom line is that 1:5 fresh herb tinctures work and a higher potency isn't necessary. Also, the greater the potency that we use above 1:5, the greater the amount of herb we end up using in order to get the same results. For reasons related to the chemical characteristics of the constituents of an herb, using twice as much herb doesn't make a tincture that is twice as strong therapeutically. For example, a 1:2.5 potency tincture should be twice as strong as a 1:5 tincture because we are adding the same amount of herb to half as much menstruum (2.5 ml instead of 5 ml). If this were true, then when we use a 1:2.5 tincture we should get the same results using a dosage that is half as much as the dosage we use for a 1:5 tincture. However, it doesn't work out that way. We need to use more than half as much of a 1:2.5 tincture to get the same results. This is because as we add more herb to the same volume of menstruum, at some point the percentage of constituents that actually dissolves in the menstruum starts to drop off. In addition, for most herbs it is physically impossible to get enough herb into a given volume of menstruum above a 1:5 or 1:4 potency. This necessitates methodologies such as grinding the herbs, percolation or macerating tinctures more than once, which are more time and energy intensive, often require the use of expensive equipment, and lead to a greater level of degradation of the constituents of the herb. Therefore higher potencies are unnecessary and wasteful. For home use, you don't need to be as accurate with your measurements as I am recommending here, but the more accurate the better.

The equipment I use for preparing fresh blue vervain tincture.

In preparing a tincture we need to be able to measure the amount of herb that we put into each bottle. For this I use a triple beam balance, but digital scales will do as long as they are calibrated to 1 g increments or smaller. We also need to know how much herb to use per bottle. Traditionally the way we calculate this is to first measure how much fluid the bottles we are using contain when they are filled to 0.5 cm (1/4 inch) from the top. It is necessary to measure this because the volume indicated for the bottle is usually not based on filling it this close to the top. Beakers and measuring cups are not accurate enough for this. It is necessary to use something that is calibrated in 1 ml increments. This usually necessitates the use of a graduated cylinder.

Once we have an accurate read on how much fluid our bottles contain, to approximate how much herb we will need for a 1:5 tincture we divide the total by 6, that is for 1 part herb plus 5 parts menstruum. This is not 100% accurate because herbs are usually less dense than water and not all herbs are of equal density. However, although this is an approximation, it is surprisingly accurate. It is sufficient for most situations. The key is to get as accurate a measurement as possible of the volume of the bottles we are using. I have done extremely detailed calculations for all of the tinctures that I make and, with only a couple of exceptions, this approximation is accurate to within 1-2%, which is good enough.

The harvested portion of one plant.

Once we know how much herb we need per bottle, it is necessary to separate the usable from non-usable parts of the portion of the herb that we harvested. When harvesting the aerial parts of plants (the parts that grow above the ground), this usually means that a portion of the stalk isn't used. This is because the primary purpose of the stalk is to hold up the leaves and flowers. As a result, the stalk tends to contain mostly dense fibrous tissue and a much lower proportion of the therapeutically active constituents. The amount of stalk that has to be removed can be anywhere from 0-100%, depending on the plant and the portion of the plant that is harvested. For most plants from which we harvest the aerial parts we harvest the terminal 25-40%  of the plant and remove 80-90% of the primary stalk and 60-75% of any well-developed secondary stalks. The specifics depend on the species of plant and at what stage we are harvesting it. The portion of the stalk that is usable tends to be the new growth that is less stiff and more succulent. To determine the usable portion for a particular species, we start at the lowest part of the stalk, cut off a small section and taste it. Then cut a similar sized section about 20% further up the stalk, then at 40%, 60%, 80%, and finally the top portion. Finally, we taste a piece of a leaf. The point on the stalk where the flavour of the stalk is about 2/3 to 3/4 as strong as the flavour of the leaf is the point at which the potency of the stalk is strong enough to use. We remove all of the stalk below that point and use all of the stalk above that point. The reason that the taste of the stalk can be used to determine its potency is because its flavour corresponds to the concentration of many of its active chemical constituents. For plants that are relatively bland in flavour because they have little to no aromatic, bitter or pungent constituents, there isn't much difference in the flavour of the different aerial parts of the plant. Therefore we just use the portion of stalk that is less stiff and more succulent.

Blue vervain is unusual in that the flavour of the entire stalk is pretty strong. This is because its flavour is primarily due to chemical constituents called iridoids and the iridoids are in a fairly high concentration in all of the aerial parts of the plant. Nevertheless, for the most part I still only use the less stiff and more succulent parts of the stalk. Overall I remove a little bit less stalk than is typical for most herbs. However, with this herb, if the amount that I harvested is a bit short, I can just use a bit more stalk rather than having to harvest more plants.

The part that is used (above) and the amount of stalk that is not used (below).
This is the same plant that was shown in the previous picture

The next step is removing the unused stalk from all of the plants that we harvested. This can be done with a knife or scissors, but since we tend to cut the stalk at the point where it becomes softer and less fibrous, for most herbs the stalks can be easily torn with our fingers, which takes less time. Once we've separated all of the usable portions of the plants that we harvested, we need to weigh them to make sure that we put the right amount in each bottle. I use four standard sizes of bottles. The blue vervain that I harvested was intended to prepare the largest size, which is a 950 ml bottle. However, the volume of bottles that are narrower at the top than the full width of the bottle are usually calculated to about the top of the shoulder. When the bottles I use are filled to 0.5 cm from the top, they actually hold 990 ml. To determine how much of the usable portion of the herb that we need to use for a bottle this size, we divide 990 by 6 (for a 1:5 tincture), which is 165 g. Although our proportions are made up of 1 part herb, which is measured in grams, and 5 parts menstruum, which is measured in millilitres, this conversion works because the density of menstruum is almost the same as for water. The density of water is 1 g/ml, so 5 ml of water is the same as 5 g of water.

The amount of herb material that is used to prepare one bottle
(990 ml) of tincture with the removed stalks below.

When I am harvesting any herb, it is important for me to determine in advance how much that I am going to need. That means the number and size of the bottles of tincture that I need to prepare, how much of the usable portion of the herb I need per bottle, and approximately how much extra that I need to harvest to account for the unused portion of the plant. I don't want to be short or I might have to go out again to harvest the same herb. In some cases, due to the number of herbs that I need to harvest, weather conditions, etc., harvesting an herb a second time might not be possible. So I might run short before I am able to prepare it again the following year. The flip side is that I don't want to over-harvest because it is wasteful and disrespectful to the medicine. When I'm out harvesting I bring a small spring scale that is accurate to within 10 g, so I can make sure I harvest the right amount. I will always harvest just a bit more than I need so that I don't accidentally run short. Any small amounts of extra herb I dry and use for teas.

After I processed 165 g of the usable portion of the blue vervain to make my bottle of tincture, the amount of stalk that I had removed was 51 g. That means that I had to harvest an extra 31% of the herb to get the amount that I needed. If I had harvested the blue vervain a bit later, the proportion of unused stalk would have increased because as the plants mature the stalk gets stiffer and the amount of stalk between the nodes (the points where the leaves join the stem) gets longer.

Once we have measured the appropriate amount of the usable parts of an herb, we need to chop it up. For this we need a fairly large hardwood cutting board and some kind of knife. Over the years I have experimented with just about every kind of knife for chopping the many herbs that I use. Some herbs are best chopped using a cleaver, a few require a serrated knife, but for most herbs the best knife by far is the mezzaluna. This is a curved knife with a handle at each end (see the first photograph in this post). When used correctly, it can finely chop herbs much more quickly than other knives. This is important because the process of chopping our herbs requires finding a balance between two opposing requirements. On the one hand, the more finely we chop the herb, the greater the surface area that we create that allows its constituents to dissolve in our menstruum. On the other hand, the more finely chopped our herb and the longer it takes to do it, the more it is exposed to air which results in greater oxidation of its chemical constituents. Most constituents are less potent when oxidized and in some cases it may even change their properties. It is true that a few constituents are more potent when oxidized, but this is not the case for the vast majority of them. In addition, they will have plenty of opportunity to oxidize after we press the herb, the final stage in making a tincture. For the best results, we want to minimize the amount of oxidation that takes place before and while the herbs are macerating. Maceration is the process of soaking the herbs in our menstruum. With the mezzaluna, I can chop an herb a little bit finer than I would with other kinds of knives in about half the time. It doesn't get any better than that! I really love those special tools that significantly increase the efficiency of the work that I do. The mezzaluna is one of those special tools. In choosing a mezzaluna, it is important that it be a larger one, 25-30 cm (10-12 inches) wide. Do not skimp on quality. Purchase one that is professional quality. The best ones are made in Italy or Portugal using high quality molybdenum vanadium steel. The ones made in China are not good. Also, only use the ones that have a single blade. One of my students once bought one with a double blade. She though this would make it easier. All it did was slow things down because the herbs kept getting caught between the blades. I don't believe they even make double bladed models in Europe.

Using a mezzaluna takes a bit of practice. Basically we hold the handles and rotate the blade back and forth over the herbs. Each time we do that we twist the blade to change the angle very slightly, first one way and then the opposite way on the next stroke. This allows it to move forward across the cutting board. What works best is to cut moving forward down the board, then begin at one of the front corners and cut diagonally in one direction, then cut diagonally in the other direction from the other front corner. Keep rotating between cutting in these three directions until the herb is chopped the right amount. It is very important that the cutting board is oriented so that the grain of the wood is running down the board away from us. Never use a mezzaluna to cut parallel to the grain of the board. This is because when we slightly twist the blade at the end of each stroke, if we are cutting with the blade parallel to the grain, it digs between the layers of wood. Over time it will start cutting out thin slivers of wood which will significantly reduce the life of the cutting board.

This is the what the herb should look like when it is sufficiently chopped.

This is the end of Part 2 of this series. In Part 3 I'll discuss making a blue vervain maceration.