Here’s a truth you don’t hear often in wellness spaces: You don’t need more stuff.
You don’t need amber glass bottles, floating shelves, or a label maker.
You don’t need a Pinterest pantry.
You don’t need a matching jar set.
You don’t need more supplies, more tools, more aesthetics, or more of anything.
What you might need is a shift in how you see what’s already yours.
An apothecary doesn’t have to be a moodboard. It’s a mindset.
And your kitchen might be closer than you think. Because your kitchen, the one with the junk drawer and the off-brand tea bags and the spoon you always reach for, already holds what matters.
Not perfection. Not performance.
Possibility.
Step One: Rethink What “Counts”
If your herbs live in reused spaghetti jars, they still count.
If your peppermint came in a ziplock from someone’s garden, it still counts.
If your favorite mug is chipped, stained, or one of those old diner ones with a hairline crack… you already know where this is going.
This is not a space for curated collections or the perfect setup, it’s about access.
What’s within reach? What’s visible? What’s easy to use without overthinking it?
Make your go-to herbs as easy to grab as your coffee.
If you’re more likely to reach for it, you’re more likely to use it. That’s what makes it a practice.
Ask yourself:
– What herbs do I actually use?
– Are they easy to reach?
– Do I need to dig for them, or are they visible?
If something is within sight and arm’s reach, it’s more likely to become part of your rhythm.
Try this:
Move three herbs you use most often to eye level.
Put a spoon next to them.
Store them like they’re meant to be used, not admired.
That small shift?
It changes everything.
Step Two: Function Over Form
Forget matching containers and fancy labels. Think flow.
Can you get from herb to kettle to mug in under a minute? Can you steep while the pasta’s boiling? Can you prep a tea blend while listening to a podcast?
If so, your kitchen’s already doing the work.
If not, shift something small. Not everything. Just enough to make tea feel like part of your day, not a chore you have to gear up for.
There’s a difference between a beautiful space and a usable one.
And most of the time, your body craves ease, not aesthetics.
Forget what it’s “supposed” to look like.
Instead, ask: What setup lets me actually follow through?
– Can I make tea while I wait for my toast?
– Can I reach for herbs without moving five things?
– Can I rinse, steep, and sip in one motion?
If your answer is yes, that’s an apothecary in motion.
If not, adjust your flow, not your furniture.
You should, at some point, organize the chaos.
You’re allowed to get better tools if and when they help.
But you don’t need to do all of that today.
You can build a functional apothecary bit by bit, as your needs evolve and your rhythm reveals itself.
Try this:
Place a small tray or bowl next to your kettle.
Not for looks, for use.
One that holds a scoop, your strainer, and your favorite loose tea.
No upgrades. No checklist. Just clarity.
Step Three: Let the Signs of Use Stay
A used mug on the counter? That means you made something.
Herbs drying in a bowl, a tea stain on the stovetop, those are signs of life.
This isn’t about mess for mess’s sake. It’s about letting the tools you use stay visible so they stay in rotation. Let your kitchen feel lived in, not staged.
These aren’t flaws. They’re footprints.
Eventually, you’ll want to organize for function.
You’ll want your tools to be easier to find.
You’ll want your herbs stored in a way that feels clear and comforting.
But that can happen over time.
Start with what works now. Adjust when you have the energy, not before.
Try this:
Leave one small item out on purpose.
A tea bag. A herb jar. A mug.
Something that reminds you to come back tomorrow.
Not everything needs to be cleared away the second you’re done.
Sometimes, what’s left behind is a form of invitation.
Step Four: Assign Meaning Back
The old spoon that stirs every cup? Reliable.
The chipped teapot you always reach for? That’s your signature piece now.
That pot that brews better than the others for no reason you can explain?
You may not need new tools. Every kitchen has a few items that do more than their job.
Claim them. Use them. Keep them in the mix.
We tend to overlook what’s familiar, especially if it doesn’t look the part.
But the tools you reach for again and again, the ones that just feel right, deserve recognition.
Try this:
Choose one item to be your signature brewing tool. Not because it’s pretty. Not because it’s new. Because it works. Because you trust it.
That’s where ritual starts:
Not with the thing itself, but with the meaning you assign to it.
Step Five: Stop Wanting To Feel Ready
There is no perfect setup.
There is no perfect time.
There is only what you’re already doing, what you’re almost doing, and the next small adjustment that makes it easier to begin.
Here’s the real secret:
You don’t need a new system.
You need a clearer path of least resistance.
An apothecary is not a shelf. It’s not a corner. It’s not a vibe.
It’s the moment when making tea feels like part of your life instead of something you have to plan around.
So if your kettle works, and your mug is clean, and your herbs are somewhere in the vicinity…
You’re ready.
You’ve been ready.
Perfectionism Kills Plant Practice. Here’s What to Do Instead
Most people don’t quit herbalism because it’s too hard.
They quit because they think they’re doing it wrong.
They think they’re behind. They think if their jars aren’t labeled, if their shelf isn’t clean, if their tea isn’t made with intention at golden hour and steeped for the exact right number of minutes, it doesn’t count.
So they stop.
Or they stall.
Or they say, I’ll start again when I’m more organized.
But here’s what I need you to hear:
You don’t need to be more organized to start. You need to start and then get more organized, once you know what works for you.
Not all at once. Not today. Not perfectly.
Perfectionism is a performance.
It says: If I can’t do this flawlessly, I won’t do it at all.
But plants don’t work like that. And neither do we.
Herbal practice is relationship-based, not performance-based.
It’s messy. Iterative. Repetitive. Familiar.
It’s something that deepens with use, not polish.
Yes, eventually, you’re going to need to clean the cabinet.
Yes, it would help if your jars were labeled, your tools were visible, your herbs stored in ways that make sense to your future self.
But none of that matters more than this:
That tea still gets made, even when you’re standing between a can of tomatoes and a half-eaten loaf of bread.
Guilt will tell you that your practice doesn’t count unless it’s curated.
Fatigue will tell you not to bother unless you can do it “right.”
But you’re already doing it.
You’re already noticing your energy.
You’re already reaching for nervines (that passionflower in your cart or your drawer) instead of numbing.
You’re already building a rhythm, even if it looks like brewing tulsi in a mug you rinsed with hot water because you didn’t want to wash a strainer.
That counts.
That absolutely counts.
It’s just not always pretty. And it doesn’t need to be.
What to do right now, after you read this, instead of chasing perfection:
– Pick one shelf.
Wipe it. Label what you use most.
Put the rest back in a box for later.
You’ll get to it.
– Pick one tool.
The spoon you love. The mug that feels good in your hand.
Keep it in view. Let it be the thing that gets you back in motion.
– Pick one herb.
Not the trendiest. Not the one you’re unsure how to prepare.
The one you know helps you. The one that feels familiar.
Start there. Brew that.
Let your practice be in progress.
Let your tea live beside leftovers.
Let your tinctures get made next to old receipts and snack wrappers.
Let your cabinet evolve, shelf by shelf, session by session.
Let your practice be built by what works, not by what looks good.
Instead Of A Makeover, Make A Move
Take the step to use what you have.
Take the step to be slightly unorganized.
Take the step to gradually shift the space toward something that supports you better.
You’re not failing if you don’t have a system.
You’re not behind if your tools are borrowed, mismatched, or stuffed in a drawer.
So don’t start over.
Start here.
Start where your tea lives.
Where your spoons always go missing.
Where care happens by accident as much as by intention.
That’s your apothecary.
That’s where the good stuff begins.
The Shit No One Tells You About Tea is available now for preorder.
It’s for the people who feel like they’re always halfway through starting.
Who keep buying herbs but never know how to use them.
Who think they’re behind because their jars don’t match.
You’re not behind. You’re just missing the kind of guide that meets you where you already are.
Preorder to start where you are, and get a free herb & tea tracker!
Preorder here.
Want to ease into herbal practice with support?
I’m hosting a 30-Day Herbal Challenge starting May 2nd.One herb per week. A new recipe each day.
No pressure. No perfection. Just easy steps, reminders, and a community that actually cares.Follow along on Instagram → @TheMinimalistHerbalist
Dosage and Safety Considerations
The information provided in this newsletter is for educational and informational purposes only and is not intended as medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Herbal practices and uses discussed are not a substitute for professional healthcare.
While herbs are natural, they are also bioactive substances, and proper dosage, preparation, and use are important. Always follow reputable dosing guidelines for each herb and consult with a qualified healthcare provider before using any herbs, especially if you are pregnant, nursing, taking medications, have known allergies, or have existing medical conditions.
Anyone experiencing severe symptoms or managing chronic health issues should seek professional guidance before using herbs.
Individual responses to herbs may vary, and no outcomes are guaranteed. The author makes no claims regarding the effectiveness, safety, or suitability of any herb for any particular person.
Readers assume all responsibility for their personal health decisions based on the information presented. The author disclaims all liability for any loss, injury, or damage allegedly arising from the use or application of the information in this newsletter.
Camille Charles is the voice behind The Minimalist Herbalist. Herbal researcher. Best-selling author. Professional over-doer of tinctures. Consumer advocate. Currently earning a doctorate in curriculum design, on a mission to make herbal education less confusing and more honest.
She believes learning about herbs should feel empowering, not overwhelming. You’ll find her distilling rose water in an Instant Pot, repurposing olive jars for cacao butter, and making overnight nettle infusions like it’s a sacred ritual. She talks way too much about womb health, nettle, and why your juicer is probably lying to you.
If there’s an herb for it, she’s tried it, and probably turned it into a teachable moment.
Grab a cup. Tea’s brewing.
An apothecary kitchen feels way cooler than an over-organized Pinterest kitchen. Let's normalize lived-in spaces, and maybe add a little magic into our lives along the way.
Living in a kitchen. Working in a kitchen. Loving the kitchen! That’s us! Thank you for a great post!