Rituals from the Yard – A Herbalist’s Guide to Self-Anointing

This is not a step-by-step guide.

Before there were serums, there were leaves in a basin. Before there were aestheticians, there were aunties with ash-streaked hands and boiling pots of bush tea.

It’s a remembrance ritual — for those who feel called to care for the skin like it’s a sacred archive. For those who believe healing can be handmade, humble, and holy.

Begin With the Yard

You don’t need a field. A windowsill will do. A single basil leaf. A bit of mint. Plants respond to intention. They do not demand perfection. Rub a leaf between your fingers. Smell it. Bless it. Ask it what it knows about healing. It will answer in scent.

Build the Basin

Fill a bowl with hot water. Add what the land gives:

• Bay leaf for boundaries
• Citrus peel for clarity
• Rosemary for remembrance
• Ginger for blood and bravery

Let the steam rise. Lean in slowly. Close your eyes and name what you’re ready to release. Let your skin open like a prayer.

Craft the Oil

No need for ten steps. One oil, charged with care, is enough. into shea, cocoa, or coconut — fold in:

• A drop of lavender for rest
• Castor oil for grounding
• Turmeric for ancient light
• A whisper of clove for heat and hunger

Warm between your palms. Smell it. Press it into your skin. Not like a chore — like a return.

Anoint With Intention

This is where ritual begins: Not what you use, but how you use it. Touch your skin like you are tracing a map back to yourself. Say your name. Say your grandmother’s name. Say the name of the plant you’re using.

Press oil into:

• Your forehead for wisdom
• Your chest for courage
• Your feet for where you’ve been
• Your belly for what you’re still becoming

Let each gesture carry a message: I am here. I am whole. I am held.

End With Stillness

Sit in silence. Let the herbs work on a level deeper than science can measure. Let your skin absorb the story. No rinsing. No rushing. Just soaking in the remembering.

This is the Yard. This is the Ritual. This is the Body as Temple. MADA BENT invites you to self-anoint — not for beauty, but for belonging. Not to fix your skin, but to speak to it in the language of your roots. This is skinwear with spirit. Worn slowly. Worn sacredly. Worn like the wisdom that came before you.