This stanza offers timeless insight into the nature of worry and sleeplessness. It warns against the unproductive torment of overthinking, something that transcends time, culture, and language.
Insomnia and nighttime rumination are now well documented features of anxiety and depression. The pre-dawn hours, when the world is still and our thoughts are loudest, can feel especially oppressive.
Odin’s advice urges wisdom through healthy and proactive emotional moderation. He implies that constant brooding leads us nowhere. A sleepless night of rumination changes nothing and only compounds one’s suffering. This is the product of avoiding one’s anxieties during waking hours. We cannot hide from these things.
This emotional state also appears in Anglo-Saxon poetry, such as in The Wanderer. The speaker describes his lonely morning sorrows: “Often I must bewail my sorrows alone every morning: none is now alive to whom I dare plainly speak my mind”.
Interestingly, a similar concept is found in the Old English word uhtceare, which roughly translates as “pre-dawn anxiety” or “the sorrow before dawn.” It refers to the experience of lying awake in the early hours, consumed by worry. The word is formed from uhta, meaning the time just before daybreak, and cearu, meaning care, grief, or anxiety.
The fact that both Norse and Anglo-Saxon traditions preserved and named this specific experience speaks to how universally felt it was throughout the Germanic world.
Yet, perhaps there is comfort to be found in this. The ancients wrestled with the same restlessness that plagues us today. If even the Allfather himself thought it important enough to caution against, then perhaps it’s a reminder that we’re not alone in our struggles. And that, in itself, may offer some solace.
The beginning of Spring is a magical time. Everything starts to wake up from Winter’s sleep, the air becomes perfumed by unfurling buds and shoots of green, birthed under sky and warming Sun. The birds start to unleash their full songs, filling the landscape with sound. In short, pure magic. What better time than now for one of the most magical plants to start its ascent skyward. Mugwort is now lining roads and walkways, growing unchecked in fields. I’ve taken the plunge into the world of Mugwort and would love to take you with me.
Mugwort (Artemisia Vulgaris) is one of the oldest herbs referenced in Anglo-Saxon plant wisdom. Some of its earliest known uses were to help regulate menstrual cycles, as well as with divination and dreamwork. There is also evidence of Mugwort smoke as an offering to Isis in Ancient Egypt. It has been mentioned in poems dating back as far as 3 B.C. in China, such as the the Shi King/Jing Poetry Classic. It is also mentioned in the poem “Hortulus” by Walafrid Strabo (808 AD – 849 AD), as ‘the Mother of Herbs’. Mugwort’s roots pre-date modern history.
The name Mugwort comes from the Greek Goddess Artemis, Lady of the Moon. She is the Goddess of hunting and fertility, also assisting in the cultivation of willpower and self-reliance. She is a comforter to women in labor, a helper to midwives, and protector of young girls. Mugwort is ruled by the planet Venus, lending it even more feminine energy. Hippocrates and Dioscorides even endorsed the use of Mugwort to help ease childbirth, their works having influenced modern medicine. The “Hippocratic Oath” that says “First do no harm” is from, well, Hippocrates.
The herb has many healing properties, both physical and spiritual. Physically, Mugwort may help stimulate menstruation, keeping from stagnation. It can be used for help in treating rashes, sore joints, bruises, and bug bites. Mugwort has benefits for pain relief, especially from arthritis. It has powerful nervine qualities, nervines being things that help relieve stress on your nervous system, which can be very helpful when treating anxiety, depression, and stress. Mugwort also contains things like iron, phosphorus, potassium, zinc, and tannin. It’s also a nutrient dense plant found most everywhere.
Personally, Mugwort is one of my favorite herbs. It has the ability to induce incredibly vivid dreams and the ability to bring about lucid dreaming experiences. Those are two of the main reasons why I love mugwort. Dream work is an important part of my spiritual practice, and Mugwort has been the best tool I’ve used. It can be taken as a tincture in tea, smoked, or put in dream sachets and bundles for burning. Being an herb so deeply entrenched in feminine energies, it is perfect for those that want to connect to the divine feminine, bond with their personal intuition, and enhance sensitivity. It can help open yourself to being more empathetic and patient.
Stagnation in body and mind can cause all sorts of problems. Mugwort increases circulation and warms the blood, helping a stagnating body. A stagnating mind will lead to frustration, detachment, and anxiety, just to name a few. Mugwort opens the mind, allowing for deep meditation and vision work. It can help with opening thoughts and deeper spiritual meanings. It moves the things in us which have lain dormant. It’s an herb for gentle but serious action.
Any phase of the Moon will work when using Mugwort for lunar practices, as it is a lunar herb. However, the best and most interesting time to use it would be during the Balsamic moon or when the moon is fully waned. The Balsamic moon is a time of going inward and recharging. This is the phase right before the new moon, making this moon perfect for meditation and really digging into the self. The Balsamic moon is the time to find what intentions you want to set and why you are trying to set that intention. Using Mugwort to explore your inner world will really help you bring your intentions to the surface; the perfect time to put your plans into action.