People ask me about saging more than almost anything else in the store. Why do we do it? How does it work? Does it matter which plant you use? These are good questions — and the answers are truly interesting.

When people sage their homes, they’re usually not thinking about bacteria. They’re thinking about energy — clearing something that feels heavy, stagnant, or left over from a difficult period. But it turns out smoke does something measurable to the physical environment as well. Research suggests that burning certain plants can significantly reduce airborne bacteria and pathogens. The physical and the energetic are not as separate as we sometimes think.

And this practice is not new. Smoke has been used for purification across many cultures. Ancient Egyptians burned elaborate blends of plants, herbs, and resins in temples and homes — a compound called Kyphi, containing juniper, mint, cinnamon, and other botanicals, used specifically to cleanse spaces and prepare them for ceremony. In Celtic tradition, juniper was burned in a practice called saining — the plant’s own spirit understood to ward off illness, negative energy, and malevolent forces. In the Andes, Palo Santo — literally “holy wood” — was burned by Incan and indigenous shamans, the tree’s spirit believed to continue serving a healing purpose even after the tree had naturally fallen. Among Indigenous peoples of North America, sage, cedar, and sweetgrass were burned to purify spaces, people, and objects. 

The use of plants as purifiers is not unique to any one tradition.

But why burn plants specifically? The answer differs by tradition — each tradition has its own belief. In Indigenous American practice, the smoke physically attaches to negative energy and carries it out of the space — which is why windows are opened when the practice is complete. In Celtic saining, it is the spirit of the plant that does the clearing — juniper was burned because juniper was understood to carry its own protective power. In Andean tradition, burning Palo Santo releases the spirit of the tree — a spirit considered most potent after the tree has naturally completed its life cycle. In Taoist practice, burning sacred plants releases beneficial qi — life force — that displaces what is stagnant.

Different traditions. Different beliefs. But a shared understanding that burning plants crosses the boundary between what we can touch and what we cannot.

What most of these traditions share — beneath the different beliefs and different plants — is this: burning plants is not simply using a tool. It is entering into a relationship. The plant brings something of its own. Your intention brings something of yours. Neither is sufficient alone.

We are not separate from the natural world — we are part of it. The plants, the land, the unseen forces that move through both — these are not outside of us. When we burn a plant with presence and intention, we are not directing it. We are entering into reciprocity with it. Recognizing its purpose. Honoring the connection that was always already there.

I believe this is also why the plant you use matters — not because one plant is universally more powerful than another, but because relationship requires proximity. The plants that grow where you live carry a connection to the place you inhabit — one that an imported plant cannot fully replicate. White sage is sacred in the traditions of the American Southwest because it grew there, because generations of people developed a relationship with it there. Palo Santo is sacred in the Andes for the same reason.

Use what grows near you when you can. Develop a relationship with it. That is the practice.