The debate around white sage—whether it is a “closed practice” and who has the right to use it—has flared into a cultural bonfire in recent years. At the heart of this argument lies a complex mix of historical truth, cultural memory, spiritual tradition, modern spiritual marketing, and, frankly, a whole lot of misunderstanding and social posturing. Like many spiritual tools adopted into mainstream practice, white sage has become both revered and reviled, depending on who you ask.
Let’s be clear: the sacred deserves respect. But let’s also not confuse reverence with restriction. Much of the current firestorm about white sage being a “closed practice” stems less from grounded cultural research and more from viral outrage and borrowed indignation. And, as often happens in the digital age, repetition creates mythology.
The Roots: What Is “Closed Practice” Anyway?
A closed practice, in spiritual terms, refers to a cultural or religious tradition that restricts the sharing of its rituals, tools, or teachings to initiates—those who are born into, trained within, or formally welcomed by the tradition. Some Indigenous ceremonies are indeed closed, protected by elders and tribal law. But the casual act of burning dried plant matter for spiritual cleansing? That practice—smoke cleansing—is global.
People across time and continents have used smoke as a spiritual purifier. Scots sain with juniper or rosemary. Eastern Orthodox priests swing censers of frankincense. Hoodoo workers use sulfur, pine, or camphor. Appalachian grannies burned newspaper or pine needles to “clear the house.” The idea that sacred smoke belongs to only one group is not supported by history.
The Plant in Question: White Sage
White sage (Salvia apiana) is native to the southwestern United States and northwestern Mexico, where it grows wild in dry, rocky soil. Some Indigenous nations of the Southwest do consider white sage sacred and have specific ceremonial uses for it. That is not in dispute. What’s been blurred is the leap from “this is sacred to me” to “no one else can use this plant without stealing from me.”
It’s a leap built on a misunderstanding of how spiritual practices and natural resources function. A plant, by nature, is not a belief system. It is not “copyrighted,” spiritually speaking. And it certainly wasn’t placed on this earth by the Creator to be used by only one ethnic group. To believe so would suggest a kind of spiritual nationalism that collapses under its own contradiction.
So, are non-Indigenous people “appropriating” when they use white sage? Not necessarily. The problem comes not from the use of the plant, but from caricatured performances of Indigenous culture—dressing in headdresses, chanting made-up words, mimicking sacred rites without context or consent. That’s not using a plant. That’s mockery. And it should be called out.
Manufactured Outrage and the Social Media Spell
Let’s talk plainly. The loudest voices declaring white sage to be a closed practice are often not Indigenous at all. They’re frequently white spiritual influencers or self-appointed gatekeepers looking for a cause. Social media is a spell all its own—it casts confusion, conjures conflict, and rewards the loudest, not the wisest.

It’s entirely possible for someone to hold a sincere desire to respect Indigenous people while also being misled by shallow online content. Many of the “white sage is closed” claims begin not from tribal declarations, but from viral posts with no citations. We must be careful not to mistake repeated misinformation for truth.
If someone began saying lavender is a closed practice of the French and English, and kept repeating it long enough, we’d have a trending TikTok hashtag by next year. The real danger lies in mistaking trendy guilt for informed respect.
So… Can You Use White Sage?
Yes—if you are doing so with sincerity, spiritual focus, and an informed heart. Light a bundle, wave the smoke, say a prayer. That is your right as a spiritual being. What matters is how you use it—not whether you bought it from Whole Foods or wild-harvested it yourself.
But here’s the rub: if you’re working with sacred herbs, know their story. Know where they come from. Know their traditional uses and honor them accordingly. Don’t wear feathers and call it a ceremony unless you’ve been taught by the people whose ceremony it is.
Using white sage in your own private spiritual work—without pretending to be Native, or selling it as a shamanic service—is not theft. It’s reverent practice. And that’s what spiritual life should be—lived, not performed.
What we practice in our own homes, our own altars, and our own hearts is nobody’s business—unless we turn it into a costume or a cash grab.

That Native response is a medicine story all its own—and it deserves to be heard, shared, and deeply respected.
What that person is saying cuts right through the noise and lands squarely in the heart of true spiritual responsibility. There’s power in that voice because it’s not posturing—it’s rooted in wisdom, generosity, and lived experience.
Let’s unpack a few lines from it, because every sentence carries a lesson:
“So Creator gave us dominion over a plant? That doesn’t sound right.”
No, it doesn’t. That idea—that a plant can be owned spiritually—goes against the very core of most Indigenous teachings, as well as the teachings of many earth-based paths. In many traditions, plants are our relatives, not our property. They’re gifts, not trophies. They speak, if we listen, and they help, if we ask with respect. The moment we claim ownership over the sacred, we’ve already stepped away from the sacred.
“This is gatekeeping and it’s not the right way in any culture.”
Truth. Gatekeeping is rooted in fear and trauma—and often in ego. But real medicine isn’t afraid to be shared. What’s sacred should be protected, yes, but protection doesn’t always mean prohibition. Sometimes, protection means education, conversation, and community. Gatekeeping is not the same thing as boundary-setting, and confusing the two leads to more harm than healing.
“Smudging is balancing energy… and if any people needed balance it’s our Settler cousins (no offense).”
Now that’s compassion. That’s grace. That’s a call to accountability without shame. And frankly, it echoes the words of elders in many Native and African diaspora traditions: “If you know how to help, you help.” You don’t check skin tone before extending a healing hand. Not if your spirit’s in the right place.
“What they do with it we don’t have any control over… It doesn’t make it less powerful for us.”
Power that is real can’t be stolen. That’s the deep magic. Yes, cultural commodification is a problem—especially when people sell sage bundles on Etsy for $35 and call themselves “shamans.” But the sacred isn’t diluted by imitation. It’s strengthened by those who keep working with it in truth and humility.
“That logic doesn’t have any medicine in it.”
That line right there? That’s the bottom line.
If your logic, your activism, your spirituality, your TikTok take—if it doesn’t hold any medicine in it… then what are you offering?
Medicine is about healing. About connection. About doing what you can with what you have, and leaving things better than you found them. It is never about withholding help or turning tradition into a weapon to shame others.
In the spirit of right relationship, this is what can be honored:
- Respecting sacred ceremonies and not mimicking or filming them.
- Acknowledging the real history of exploitation and colonization.
- Learning from those who still carry traditional knowledge, when it is offered.
- Understanding that sharing medicine doesn’t weaken it—it fulfills its purpose.
So yes—let’s keep the sacred sacred. But let’s not confuse protecting culture with withholding compassion. That Native speaker reminded us that true medicine is always meant to be shared. And when done with love and reverence, passing on the flame does not dim your own—it spreads the light.
So, burn rosemary, burn pine, burn white sage if it calls to you. Just don’t burn down the bridge between cultures with ignorance or ego. Respect is not restriction. It is relationship. And that’s where all true magic begins.



The next day, open the jars and take out the 


The third edition of my White Mojo Lenormand Oracle Cards was just released. When I noticed that there were less than 20 decks in stock at the store I knew it was, of course, time to order more. But I also knew that the cards were never exactly as I had envisioned them so I decide to tackle the cards again and give them a complete redesign.




Honey Jars for Love and Relationships –
The opposite of a honey jar is a souring jar. It is intended to either keep people at bay or to make their lives miserable. A honey jar might entice someone to you, whereas a vinegar (or souring) jar irritates and repels them. is frequently employed for evil tasks like BreakUP work, which involves getting two people to dispute and then split ways. Additionally, it can be used to make Hotfoot work more effective at removing a subject.



