I’m a parent. I love being a parent. I grow basil. I love making pesto.
Every year around March or so, when winter starts to fade and spring peeks around the corner, I plant a new batch of basil. I don’t have the patience to grow it from seed, so I start with baby plants. I have a big pot I plant three or four plants in. I drag the pot to a spot where the basil gets sun, and I enjoy watering it.
In fact, I really enjoy watering my basil. I keep a watering can on the patio and water the basil in the morning. I have a plastic spray bottle, too. I like to spritz water on the basil leaves in the afternoon. The water beads up on the leaves, they glisten in the sun, and I like the sound of the spritzer.
It’s a meditative moment for me. My mind loses track of whatever work stuff is going on and I just take a moment to focus on the basil. Putting the pot in the sun gives it the light it needs to grow, but that’s sort of passive. Watering it is something I can actively do, and I know it needs water to thrive.
This year my basil didn’t do very well. It seemed weak and frail. Bright green leaves turned yellowish. Stalks wilted. I moved the pot to get more sun. I gave it more water in the morning. I began to spritz the leaves more often, a couple of times each afternoon. But nothing helped. White moldy growth started to appear on the base of each plant. So I did what any gardener would do in this situation. I Googled “why is white moldy stuff growing on my basil plant.” And I learned that I had been over-watering my basil.
I felt bad. I was just trying to help my basil grow. I wanted to nurture it. I was the only person it could rely on for this support. But it turns out I was doing too much. I was trying too hard. I needed to take a step back.





