Plant more plants

Last night, I finished reading an excellent book that my friend Amanda recently gave me about women's sexuality. While the focus of Come as you Are is on cultivating a sex-positive attitude amid a sex-negative culture, the parts that resonated so deeply with me were the sections on letting go, on allowing oneself to do what author Emily Nagoski calls "completing the cycle" of painful feelings -- be the feeling fear, grief, or anger, it needs to be recognized and expressed. Crying. Yelling. Exercising. Sharing a bottle of wine with a friend and talking til three in the morning. There are many ways to process painful emotions, and sometimes the process takes a while. Often the processing itself feels painful and endless, but it has to happen if we are to move on. (Yes, this is a blog about gardening and cooking and sustainability and not particularly about sex beyond the occasional reference to the literal birds and bees. Stay with me here....)

This morning, I attended a memorial herb garden dedication for my friend Tricia at Common Good City Farm. I've been mourning my friend's absence over the past two and a half years, grappling to make sense of a senseless murder and struggling to find a way to move on. Her memory, and my sadness, have caught me off guard more than a few times, and I've found myself suddenly misty-eyed while biking around her old neighborhood or meditating during a yoga class or just mixing up a cocktail in my apartment. Apparently I'm still processing. Making bitters, hosting clothing swaps, gardening, joining an herbal CSA to learn more about medicinal herbs -- all of these have been attempts to continue the joy and learning that my yoga teacher and go-to herbalist Tricia inspired over the course of our years of friendship.

It was only today that I finally felt the beginning of real healing around the raw place in my heart, when others shared stories about her exuberance and welcoming spirit and passion for the earth and growing things and building community. When we wrote messages on ribbons and tied them to the fence -- akin to Tibetan prayer flags -- behind the Tricia McCauley Memorial Herb Garden. When we took home smooth stones with Tricia quotes and medicinal herb seedlings to plant in our own gardens. When we honored her legacy by continuing to connect with and educate and look out for each other. I myself picked up some chamomile and holy basil plants for my school garden's herb bed, and mentioned to a few gardening newbies asking about what to grow that holy basil is especially good for calming and quieting the mind -- it's a nervine and an adaptogen, which I learned from my more recent herbal guru, Holly. Everyone left with at least one herb to grow at home or in a community plot. Because if there was one quote we could all agree on that encapsulated our dear Tricia, it was "Plant More Plants!" It's the best way to heal ourselves, each other, and the planet.