lucid dreams and mugwort tea: a deep dive

LUCID DREAMSAND MUGWORT TEA:

A DEEP DIVE

written by TALIA SMITH photos by SERGIO CANA RODRIGUEZ art by JULIA SMITH

Like all self-care enthusiasts, I’ve often found myself lost in piles of beauty products, trend-cycling “procosmo tips” and really any quaint DIY mixtures that promise some sort of positive outcome. In recent years, it seems like I’ve taken a rather deep exploration into the world of natural remedies. I’ve essentially been sucked into a hole of exciting life improvements, but I’ve made it out on the other end mostly empty-handed.

On a number of occasions, I’ve been coaxed by the internet into doing regrettable things, such as investing in arguably overpriced skincare lines, hanging a dried eucalyptus carcass from my showerhead, or using “naturally derived, hand-crafted vegan soap” that ended up making my skin dry up, crack, and peel. On the off chance that one of these remedies works, I’ll end up convincing myself that it’s not worth the investment or that I didn’t really see or feel any significant changes. Placebo effect: 100. Investment outlook skills: slim to none.

In a fit of dissatisfaction with my usual selfcare scouting, I fell into a hole of herbalheavy products— a hole that led me, Alice, to the world of mildly hallucinogenic teas, my perceived personal Wonderland. At last, natural remedies that promised something a bit more than subjective relaxation or calmness.

I began my Mugwort trials with an itch for knowing as much about it as I could find. What started with reading Twitter threads and online Quora forums quoting anonymous Reddit testimonials quickly turned to doomscrolling through potential side-effects, horror stories, and endless warnings about mixing certain herbal substances. As the fear of consuming what I suddenly came to know as a natural abortative progressed, there came a sudden pivot in my research.

The most notable difference it held from the natural remedies that had disappointed me in the past was that instead of presenting me with the easily breakable and vague promise of “wellness,” Mugwort tea promised to “alter my subconscious mind while I slept.” In juxtaposition to any foreseen side effects that had scared me away, this promise piqued my interest a bit too much. Goodbye, disappointing flickers of momentary bliss— hello, plant-based dreamworld.

For safety reasons, I’ll take the time to fully disclose the following: I am a 21-yearold adult who 1. Openly enjoys the very legal consumption of a number of natural herbs (psychoactive and otherwise), and 2. Conducts a considerable amount of research on the things that go into my body. If it can be ingested, soaked into a pore, or consumed in any way by my person, I’ll probably want to know a thing or two about it before trying it out.

Boston’s Commonwealth Center for Holistic Herb Consumption— one of many online platforms that adamantly supports the careful and controlled use of Mugwort tea as a dream-altering substance— explains that lucid dreaming, improved dream recall, and even “enhanced dream creativity” are all said to be prominent outcomes of Mugwort consumption.

Unlike many biased fan-following forums, the CCHHC did mention that such in-depth dream experiences take more than a hot cup and comfortable bed. However, the idea of “bolstering dream recall and ability to identify recurring patterns in your dreams” held true throughout my research journey. This promise of change, however hard to measure, interested me enough to give Mugwort a go. What resulted was more than I had bargained for.

In accordance with my normal habits, I decided not only to take the traditional route of steeping my herbs and enjoying a sizeable cup of tea, but to roll and smoke the ground up herbs. Surprisingly enough, these two modes of consumption made for significantly different experiences. I had also read that tolerance to “other herbal inhalants” may have an effect on one’s tolerance to Mugwort, so I consider my experience slightly warped by existing habits. However, I do feel that Mugwort tea shed a light on my perception of tolerance and the power that herbs can have on our brains. So— here’s a rundown of what happened when I smoked it, drank it, and reflected on my experience:

My Thoughts Drinking: For three days, I drank half a cup of herb diluted in one cup of hot water. Besides being thrown off by the taste (my research led me to anticipate a “sweet, full flavor,” which I actually found to be considerably bitter) I didn’t have too bad of a time drinking it.

Upon feeling a subtle lift in my mood, a decrease in energy and weighted muscles, I decided to get into bed and ride the experience out in a comfortable space. With a dream journal on my nightstand, waiting to be filled in the morning, I dozed off into a peaceful and very deep sleep each night I used the Mugwort.

Although I knew not to expect anything too life-altering or intensely psychedelic, I will admit that I was a bit let down by the tea’s impact on my dreams and subconscious thoughts.

At best, I felt like I got a really good night’s sleep and was reminded of experiences with melatonin or a large dose of Motrin PM. I didn’t find it necessarily “easy” to lucid dream or control what I was thinking about, although my dream recall did improve.

My Thoughts Smoking: After mixing some herbs together and rolling

myself something nice before bed, I did not expect to feel what can only be described as an intense headrush followed by the deepest sleep I’ve ever had. Luckily, I actually noticed that “sweet” flavor I had been promised, but only very slightly. As with drinking the tea, I found that smoking did help me in one way or another with dream recall.

Overall Reaction: Whether it was by chance or not, the few nights that I drank the tea, I ended up having pretty intense dreams. I was able to recall running (from what, I’m not sure) and a game-showesque moment with some of my close friends when I smoked the herb, but when I drank it, most of what I could remember from my dreams was slightly unsettling. I can recall feelings of worry, confusion, and a lot of dark colors from the nights that ended with a cup of tea, and an interesting life-like experience when I smoked. I’m not the biggest tea girl, so I don’t think I can see myself implementing Mugwort tea into my nightly ritual. I do think that the effects seemed more instantaneous and arguably more intense when I inhaled the herb. If I were going to make Mugwort a part of my normal routine, I’d opt for smoking over drinking.

In short, I am very easily persuaded into trying “natural” anything, so long as someone, somewhere, can vouch for the likelihood that I will gain something positive from it. Mugwort tea offered me an alternative to the empty promises of DIY and natural remedies for wellbeing, but also reminded me of how powerful persuasion can be. Whether or not the tea really did anything to me is still up in the air. However, I won’t knock Mugwort for the rest of my life, especially on the days on which I’m more inclined to remember my dreams or enjoy a nice cup of tea.