Andrea Kwok Andrea Kwok

BITTER

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Something is brewing in Minneapolis, in the United States, and in the hearts, minds, and twitter feeds the world over. The movement is bubbling, and the streets runneth over with grief, grit, violence, and awakenings. For many in my generation, the Black Lives Matter movement, rekindled from past efforts with fevered intensity by George Floyd’s death in the spring of 2020, is the most violent and heart-wrenching social justice movement to happen in our backyards. The streets, the internet, and our conversations are dominated, at least for now, by the sharing of experiences with racism, and injustices at the hand of a broken police and judicial system. We are learning more about the inner soulscapes of one another, and yes, I have been horrified, disappointed, inspired and frustrated in turn (and probably elicited the same reactions in others). Conditioning runs deep, and defensiveness is a stone wall that goes up in an instant, but is damn well exhaustive to scale. Bitterness is a pervasive flavour, and an understandable reaction to centuries of dehumanizing oppression, willful ignorance and genocides both obvious and subtle. It’s also a flavour that is woefully underrepresented in modern diets as much as it is present in our spirits at this time.

Traditional medicines of the world teach us that the flavour of bitterness plays an important role in processing and purging within the body. While bitterness does precede the danger of a poisonous plant, it also encourages the production of bile, and primes the body for digesting food, and supporting the liver in elimination. I am trying to hold this knowledge as a meditative intention through my confrontations with racism of various scopes within my own life and the world. With each incoming account of racial profiling and murderous police officers walking free, my heart floods with bitterness. I want to harness this feeling, and craft a more proactive, dedicated action plan for combating racism.

To compliment this intention, I made a Dandelion Tincture with a recent gift of dried dandelion flowers. Despite the ubiquity of concrete, the determined dandelion, or Taraxcum flower, raises its sunny head in droves throughout urban jungles. My walks these days feel more like frolics now that many public and private spaces have laid down their mowers and fertilizers this spring, allowing dandelions to flourish and coat the neighbourhood in bright butter yellow. Between Covid and the Black Lives Matter movement, dedicating so much genocidal extermination towards this misunderstood weed feels particularly problematic. Dandelions possess healing potential for our physical bodies, and sunshine for our spirits, plus dogs look ridiculously idyllic bounding through a park munching on dandelion flowers. And regardless, who has the time and energy for wrath directed at plants these days? If you’re interested in putting the Round-Up down, and learning firsthand about the bitter-alchemy-backyard witch-magic of a bitters tincture, try the following.

In a large mason jar, combine dried dandelion flowers with cleaned, chopped and dried dandelion leaves and root chunks. Submerge the plant matter in apple cider vinegar. Shake the jar from time to time, noting that the vinegar may rust the metal of a mason jar lid, so lay a piece of parchment paper in between the liquid and the lid. Store in a dark, cool place. In one month, you’ll have a potent tincture that can be taken before or after meals to aid in the digestion and elimination processes. Remember that powerful medicine doesn’t always go down easy, and that healing will require making space for our full spectrum of emotions, the bitter and sweet in turn.

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