The time has come
What I have noticed during this season of dis-ease and uncertainty is a strong undercurrent of compassion, people watching out and caring for each other such as the group which gathers at Sparky’s to prepare and deliver free meals to folks who need them. That is inspiring. That is the spirit I hope we hang onto long after the pandemic passes.
Consistent with focusing on common bonds and working together, it is time I make peace with spearmint. Sometimes I use it for tea, to flavor drinks or steamed carrots, and dry the leaves to use as mulch. Spearmint and I have not always been on good terms.
In autumn of 2010, I was still creating a garden on my rocky hillside, and I put two or three tiny spearmint plants at the end of a bed as a home for the winter with the plan of establishing a permanent place nearer the house in the spring. My life is littered with poor decisions – Herman’s Hermits albums, the night two friends and I took a fifth to the drive-in, buying that red Mazda pickup – but this time I unleashed spearmint on an unsuspecting hillside. How was I to know?
The next spring, I learned spearmint root runners have an indefatigable need to spread their influence. Like underground missionaries, they knocked on every door in every neighborhood, and soon devoted green spearmints began sprouting in places counter to my intentions, and busy beneath them were those relentless runners. Though my gardens do walk on the wild side, I want to half-maintain the appearance of control and design, and those runners did not care about my agenda.
I acknowledge that mints are part of the commonplace herbal register. I’ve read mints ease flatulence and stomach complaints and that is a good thing, but I don’t have those. I’m more about the flavor and gardener aspect – how many things can I grow before I get old. I also appreciate how plants can have a vulnerary effect on us. Plus, mints are easy to grow.
Maybe too easy? Spearmint has spread under my garden fence in two directions. My nearest neighbors are about 4000 feet away with rocky terrain between us, but, seriously, should they begin preparing? I find myself digging deep, pulling spearmint out of a particular bed for the third time – calm of mind, focused, Namaste, etc. – searching for every tiny piece of a runner in the soil like an armadillo digging for grubs. I envision Mother Nature driving the car and saying, “You think you’ll get all of it out, and if you do you’ll regret it when it’s gone,” and I’m the smart aleck in the back seat thinking, “Are we there yet?”
So, the time has come for me to make peace with spearmint. The moment of communion is at hand. I shall do my part to help rid my garden (world) (government) of narcissistic selfish narrowness. This is a plateau from which I can evolve.
Spearmint embodies the spirit of exploring, and I therefore will expand my horizons. I will read a book by Eckhart Tolle as soon as it comes in the mail. I’ve heard his ideas fit well with a moment like this. I will find new uses for spearmint in the kitchen and learn more songs in open-D tuning.
Spearmint freshens the breath, so I will remember to chew on a leaf and floss more often. Enough said about that.
Native Americans washed sores with spearmint tea – a perfect metaphor for our world. May spearmint tea rain down upon us all leaving behind the fresh breath of camaraderie when the sun shines and we join hands together again. Hallelujah! Pass the tea jar.