The Virtues of Resins and Balms

Resins and balms were burned in temples, applied as remedies and worn as amulets. Their story goes beyond scent: people saw in them a bond between the earthly and the spiritual.

Frankincense is perhaps the most famous. Native to the Arabian Peninsula and the Horn of Africa, it has accompanied religious rituals for millennia. Its white smoke rises like a bridge to the sky. Tradition associates it with contemplation and meditation.

Myrrh, darker, tells another story. Its scent is more bitter and more resinous. In ancient Egypt, it was used for embalming, and it was burned in the temples every day at midday. With gold and frankincense, it was also among the gifts of the Magi. It still keeps that solemn, protective aura. Sancta Myrrha takes its name from it.

Benzoin, softer, gives off a balsamic, vanilla scent. It flows from the styrax trees of Southeast Asia, from Laos to Sumatra. In homes, it was burned to scent the rooms. Its fragrance evokes comfort, like an invisible blanket.

Balms such as Peru balsam or Tolu balsam add a more sensual nuance. Peru balsam in fact comes from Central America: it owes its name to the Peruvian ports from which it sailed for Europe. Their warm, sweet aromas evoke honey or vanilla. They were long used in traditional pharmacopoeias. Their balsamic softness is associated with comfort.

All these substances share a common virtue: they invite slowness and contemplation. When burned, they release a smoke that brings people together. Diffused in a room, they evoke warmth and stability. Their trail lingers, like an anchor.

These ancestral uses have crossed the centuries: frankincense is associated with serenity, benzoin with comfort, myrrh with protection. Resins and balms thus appear as mediators, both remedies of old and symbols.

A dark drop hardened on the bark carries centuries of ritual. Resins and balms tell of an ancient wisdom: that of a nature that invites slowness and connects the living.