Editor's Note

When we let go of what we think we know, a plot and a path often emerge for things to take root, shooting us into a new storyline of possibilities. This is especially true for those of us formerly rooted in healing being singularly attached to western models of care. That’s the trying health journey where we address symptoms before considering root causes— the heart of where all our suffering grows.

For our first quarterly edition of 2025, we approach the topics of cancer and love, wrapped gently in a cover that celebrates the beauty in that promise of renewal hidden just beneath the surface. Our cover highlights a crocus, an early bloomer in a late winter Minnesota landscape. She is our visual cue to keep our chins up, as our paths will soon be free of slippery steps come spring. This issue on cancer and love is supported, bravely, by the stories shared by those who intimately know the resilience and fortitude needed to reach the light again after a long, brutal stretch of feeling snowed in.

The first step in writing something like this Editor's Note, or one of our pieces within Bloom, isn't brainstorming. It's brain-burning. Like an intentional back-burn of a forest to clear out undesirable growth, it ensures ample space for new seeds to take root and improve the terrain. Growth, first and foremost, needs a safe space to get a foothold.

In a plant world that has been politicized for too long, our science lags desperately behind in what humans have historically done quite well— by proofing and proving nature's efficacy in healing us and protecting us through sharing our experiences (stories) and learnings (recipes, tips, tricks, and DIYs) with our peers. Together, we iterate and grow in those spaces between those hard-learned and valiantly fought lessons, circling back and improving on them each time again.
While writing this Editor's Note, I saw a formation of seven geese fly by my office window, which overlooks a branch of a river once the most polluted in the nation. Seven generations before me would never have imagined how destructive humanity could be to its future self— especially at the start of the Industrial Revolution in the stockyards of Chicago. Today, that river has healed enough for life to exist safely— with flora, fauna, and kayaks filled with humans enjoying it and relying on it again. That knowledge brings me immense hope for our collective future. If nature can heal itself, so can we.

Geese in flight are called a team. Their "V" formation mid-air is an elegant physics lesson on how we too can fly together in a flock, each one coming before us creating an uplift, easing our flight path, and helping us expend less energy on our journeys.

Whether it is guidance you need on cannabis, launching and running a business that boldly faces a new sector, tools and next steps after receiving a cancer diagnosis, or a hopeful anchor found in a story of healing from someone previously spinning out in their storm of suffering, Team Bloom is here to lend a hand.
In this sharing, caring, participatory, group lift at Team Bloom, we collect plant resources and distribute them generously to those in need. Our hope? To plant enough seeds of curiosity and populate our formerly blank pages with what we believe to be the most genuine forms of generational wealth (and, ultimately, generational health) that we can offer you - the knowledge and power to improve your landscape.

With tender loving care,

ANGELIQUE ZERILLO, CG
EDITOR-IN-CHIEF