How not to grow leggy basil
Have you ever grown leggy basil? This used to be a habit of mine. When I would plant the seeds indoors around February, I would envision overflowing and fragrant pots of basil one might find at an Italian villa in the summertime. Come May and June, I had lots of plants, but their stems were long and weak, the leaves tiny. Not only would they not grow, there was hardly enough to garnish a plate of pasta much make a pesto to toss it in.
Then my friend the farmer-priest showed me how to pinch back basil early in the herb’s life, and I quickly learned that this important practice is what produced fuller, more luscious plants.
For me, Lent — the current season of self-examination and repentance in the Christian tradition — is a lot like pinching back basil. While anything focused on sin and repentence tends to have a miserable reputation, most practicioners of fasting, whether from food for Facebook, would tell you that it helps you to live in richer ways when the season has ended. It’s a time for reflecting on the things and people and practices in our lives that prevent us from living full, loving lives in relationship with the world around us — people and planet included.
When I pinch back the basil, I don’t cut it all back. I carefully select the leaves and strong stems that I discern will flourish if pinched back. This instinct takes practice and a little faith.
What I love about Lent is that it’s a time when my community practices pinching back the areas in our life ready for more growth together. We gather and remind ourselves weekly of the path we walk together in this season. We invite each other to reflect on what we need to pinch back. Many people give up a food, which helps them to reexamine their relationship with that particular food. Some take up a practice, which requires pinching back activities or behaviors that were preventing them from taking up that practice.
Self-denial can be a form of self-care. This is a message no one, me included, likes to hear. Particularly a year into The Pandemic. But ultimately, the practice of self-denial is less about giving up and more about about presence and attendance to who you are as a person, to the ways you can be better to yourself and to others.
I’ve given up drinking for Lent because I found that I was using a glass of wine or a cocktail in the evenings to dull the anxiety and sadness of nearly a year of this pandemic. Ironically, alcohol is a depressant, and while I look forward to sharing a bottle of wine with friends again at some point this year or enjoying a cold beer in the sunshine on my back porch in the spring, by pinching back this behavior of mine, I am taking the time to be more honest with myself about how I cope with anxiety and sadness. Namely, when I deny myself a cocktail or glass of wine, I remind myself that what gets me through hard times isn’t booze. What is getting me through The Pandemic, and indeed all the hard times of life, is my own resilience and my relationship with my community of family and friends.
In other words, I am reminded that I am not alone in this world.
P.S. Check out the story of this painting of Isabella and the Pot of Basil! (Heads of murdered lovers are not recommended for growing big pots of basil.)
Table Talk
Last newsletter, I mentioned that I had hoped to make Parmesan pesto rolls. Well I did and they were pretty great. Hooray for followthrough!
This simple soup was a bit of a revelation to me. I frequently make potato soup without a recipe but never thought to add chile powder. We’re starting to move out of the season of rich soups, but this is one worth making again and again. And now I will never not have lime-pickled jalapeños in my fridge.
I’m moonlighting as a recipe developer, apparently. (Full disclosure: I do some work for this seafood company. The fish is exceptional and the membership model supports small-boat fishing communities. That’s my plug.) If you try this recipe, let me know if you liked it!
Signals
I have mixed feelings about this New York Times article. On the one hand, I love when people recognize their need for connection across time and place and discover new ways for tapping into it. On the other hand, I worry that it veers very close to presenting prayer as magical wish making. The phrase “love and light” is used, and I’m always so curious what people mean when they say that.
Second things: this isn’t a new book, but I like to remind people that it exists (and that I wish I’d been the one to write it). It would be a good read for a non-Christian season of self-exploration and practice of ritual.
Talk to Me
What is preventing you from connecting with yourself and the world (other than social distancing)?
God Talk is a twice monthly newsletter about seeking and making meaning out of life in the modern world. God is in the name but belief is not required for reading. Read the first issue to learn more.
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