People say you should face your fears. On an intrepid whim earlier this spring, I set out with a shovel and a package of dried peas to the garden to do just that.It was a warm afternoon in May. The last rainfall had been weeks earlier and the ground was dry but for the manure that had been shovelled in after the till. In a few days the moon would be full and my green-thumbed neighbour, Loretta promised that this would boost my mini crop.
For Loretta, as for most gardeners, tending to the yard is relaxing pastime with an element of ritual gained over the years. It is a rewarding labour, producing a variety of actual fruits – as well as tubers, bulbs and stems depending on the seed you sow. I don't find it very relaxing at all and often wonder if having fresh produce is worth the sheer terror of splicing the earth with a shovel.
After all, I could splice through an earthworm.
I am a Helminthophobe. I realize earthworms are harmless and that my fear of these crawlers is senseless. Indeed, they are among the most productive and vital organisms. I learned plenty about their do-gooding in a book called, The Earth Moved: On the Remarkable Achievement of Earthworms. The author, Amy Stewart, is a gardener who elaborates a profound interest and appreciation for the creatures. I read the book hoping that learning something about worms would help reduce the fear factor.
It helped. I gained a better understanding of their pivotal role in the life cycle, and now choose to cultivate worms in a compost heap. Still I keep a distance, tipping the lid with a broom and tossing banana peels and apple cores in from afar.
Planting peas this spring was a method of tackling my anxiety surrounding the earthworm. It was similar to the task of eating gummy worms I took on a few years back. Every now and then I have to desensitize myself.
I faced my fear and am finally reaping the abundant reward. With the cooperation of the earthworm, my peas are now grown and ready for harvest.
They are almost as delicious as a red and yellow gummy worm.
