Distill That Spirit
Juniper forward.
That’s how they described the particular gin.
We were at St. Augustine Distillery, which makes fine craft spirits inside the walls of a former power and ice plant built in 1907. The FP&L Ice Plant was the first to make commercially produced ice in Florida.
I loved how they described the gin, vodka, and bourbon they make and sell. Similar to how one might need to describe the notes in wine, a distillery has to find ways to distinguish their spirits.
They say their New World Gin has “a citrus entry, bright and clear. The juniper, coriander and angelica are individually well-established but support each other in a nice balance. Baking spice notes round out the finish.”
Their Florida Straight Bourbon is “deep and warm with notes of toffee, cinnamon marshmallow, leather, stone fruit, and vanilla and dark cocoa” to the nose.
I don’t even like bourbon, but yum!
How funny it would be if we described ourselves as humans these ways.
“He is tobacco forward, with a molasses and leather finish.”
Or “she starts round citrus, infused with baking spice notes.”
Sounds spot on, right?
I would want to be lavender forward. With undertones of lemongrass. Maybe a tinge of cane sugar to finish. My favorite herbs—soothing, refreshing calm—but a bit of sweet to wrap up.
What do you lead with?
What do you put forward when you enter a room?
Do you bring layered effervescence? Or more serious notes? And what does your finish look like? What is the lingering aftertaste when you depart a room?
Perhaps the energy you leave behind is nutty.
Floral.
Or woodsy.
We all have the opportunity to define our own notes. But regardless of the proprietary blend, if you come in closed off, bottle sealed tight, others don’t have the opportunity to truly know you.
Or they might decide in the absence of information who you are.
How do others’ notes impact the clarity of your own?
And what happens to your notes when take on someone else’s version of who you are?
Poet and equal rights activist Audre Lorde said, “If I didn’t define myself, I would be crunched into other people’s fantasies for me and eaten alive.”
We can take on someone else’s story of who we are supposed to be. Our family and lived experience, relationships, and former dark times in our lives can color how we show up in the world.
And it can be exhausting living out someone else’s sense of who we are.
We might be able to do this for a while—show up in some forced way that is not our own. But eventually, the seal cracks. Our real, genuine self starts to leak out.
Are you truly juniper forward?
But you come in with hints of anise and white pepper?
Or perhaps you tend to hide your beautiful botanicals and reveal them only to those who know you best. Imagine the amazing herbs and flavors that make you who you are.
You may be spicier than people even know.
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