쑥자훈 - Mugwort, Myths, and Menstrual Relief: Discovering the Power of Ssukjahun in Korea

When I arrived in Korea, I had one major goal in mind: to experience as many traditional therapies as possible. I was curious—not necessarily chasing a cure or specific health outcome, but eager to learn through immersion. Acupuncture, chuna massage, herbal foot baths, rock salt saunas, and of course, peristeaming (also called vaginal steaming)—all made my list.

What I didn’t expect was that just 36 hours after landing, I’d find myself in 90°F weather, wearing a borrowed t-shirt and a towel around my waist, two hot bean bags on my shoulders, sitting over a ceramic seat with a burning brick of mugwort beneath me, sipping hot tea with two strangers and my steaming teacher. After my hour-long, sweaty sit, the ashes of my mugwort would even be “read” by the practitioner to give insight into my health.

Locker room at Green Wang Moxa Cautery in Gangnam Seoul. Wearing a t-shirt and waist robe to prevent my clothes from smelling like smoke

This therapy, known in Korea as ssukjahun—literally "mugwort dry steaming"—is widely practiced once you know what to look for. While less common in hospital or clinical settings, it thrives in small wellness businesses across the country. When you visit one of these spaces, you're given a robe, store your belongings in a locker, and then head into a cozy room with three to five ceramic steam chairs. The practitioner uses a hand torch to ignite a puck of compressed mugwort in a small pot below the seat, and you simply sit and sweat—for an hour.

But is it just tradition, or is there science behind it?

Steam chair at Chilbosan Moxa Cautery Suwon, South Korea

In 2009, Seoul National University conducted a clinical study involving 40 participants who reported regular menstrual cramps. Half of the participants performed four days of dry mugwort steaming a week before their periods. The other half served as the control and did no steaming at all. Each participant completed a survey and provided urine samples both before and after treatment, which were analyzed for prostaglandins—lipid compounds known to play a significant role in uterine contractions and menstrual cramping.

The results? Those who steamed reported noticeably fewer cramps, and their prostaglandin levels were significantly lower than those in the control group. The researchers concluded that dry vaginal steaming was an effective, accessible way to reduce menstrual pain—and even recommended its inclusion in nursing care and health education in Korea.

Steaming chairs at Green Wang Moxa Cautery

Beyond the science, the practice is deeply cultural and personal. Nearly every practitioner I met had a compelling story about mugwort’s transformative effects. In Suwon, a practitioner shared—through multiple sessions and lots of Papago translation—that she had been diagnosed with cancer after years in a corporate office. Disappointed by the limits of conventional treatment, she turned to spiritual and traditional therapies. Mugwort steaming, she said, brought peace to her body and mind and became a central part of her healing. She now shares that practice with others.

Mugwort I found during a mountain hike in Uiwang

The reverence for mugwort in Korea goes back centuries—even to the mythical founding of the country itself. In the creation story of Gojoseon, Korea's first kingdom, the divine king Hwanung gave a bear and a tiger 20 cloves of garlic and a bundle of mugwort—ssuk—telling them to eat only that and stay hidden in a cave for 100 days. The tiger gave up, but the bear endured and was transformed into a woman named Ungnyeo. She later gave birth to Dangun, Korea’s legendary first king.

Whether you're drawn by folklore, modern research, or simple curiosity, mugwort steaming offers a fascinating blend of tradition, wellness, and cultural connection. My own experience was unexpected, deeply sensory, and oddly comforting. It reminded me that healing—whether physical, emotional, or spiritual—can be as much about ritual and presence as it is about outcomes.

So if you ever find yourself in Korea, don’t be surprised if you end up wrapped in a robe, sipping tea, and sweating out stress over a burning brick of ssuk. You might just walk away feeling lighter—inside and out. If you're curious about incorporating the practice at home, schedule a free consultation to get more information.