root rot

Last weekend, I noticed the root of one of my San Pedro plants is rotting. This is a first in the 13 years I have been tending these plants.

Even with all I have learned, I still felt crushed, as if it were personal or my fault. I had all my feelings about what a shame it was, despair about what to do, and generally circling the track in my mind about everything that is wrong with me and all the times I fail. Eventually I was able to move on from that experience.

I watched a few YouTube videos about how to handle San Pedro root rot. I remembered many of the teachings I’ve received from the plants about all the ways that life continues and only gets more life-y. At this time, nothing has died, no one has failed. Root rot happens. Over-hydration happens. It’s a matter of too much water too quickly, it’s not a mistake or the end of anything.

If I do nothing, the rot would spread further. It’s possible some of the plants would fall over in the wind, but they would still keep growing.

Trees and many plants both grow and die at the same time for years and years. Humans too.

Today I felt ready to take action. I sterilized my sharpest knife with tea tree oil. I smoked my chanupa and made a prayer for my life. I cut the three healthy lengths of the plant off wearing oven mitts and placed them on the ground in front of my white sage tree which has come back from falling over last winter.

I love the six pointed star shape visible when the plant is cut like this. In a few weeks the cut part will be scabbed over and new roots will be growing. I will be able to replant them. I will clear a space on the other side of the yard for them and prep the soil to make it high drainage.

One length still stands. I can’t see if its root is infected. It has the bud of a flower so I decided to leave it and see what happens.

It’s a joy to tend these plants and support their growth. I don’t do it perfectly and I don’t often worry about it too much anymore.

I have a prayer to care for these plants over the arc of time, to witness and observe them, learn from them, and notice the details of how they evolve over time. I feel them and I believe they feel me. It’s a blessing.