machete therapy

On Monday, I discovered machete therapy. Madonna showed me how it's done: First you put the worn out hulk of an old broccoli plant on top of the compost heap. Then you think of something that makes you angry. You lift your machete in the air, and WHACK! Give that old broccoli what for.

Madonna then left me alone with a truckload full of uprooted brassicas and…the machete. At first, I was just trying to get a handle on the Alice-in-Wonderlandish task of using a two-foot knife to make a salad out of a few hundred pounds of thick plants. But then I thought about Madonna's instructions, and I started to put some anger into it.

And it just started coming:
WHACK! for perfection
WHACK! for L, for A, for J, for C, for J, for J, for J, for B, for A, for K, for D, for H, for K - for all the gals I know who have wrestled with anxiety or depression
WHACK! for men who take up too much space
WHACK! for stupid wars and the shadows of our leaders
WHACK! for cancer and a government that condones unhealthy food
WHACK! for insurance companies and pill pushers and a medical system that scares me
WHACK! for the things that should be simple but aren't
WHACK! for fear and for fearing fear
WHACK! for conditional love and relationship drama
WHACK! for whatever the hell - blue cheese, prestige, sunscreen, cold feet

There were a lot more whacks in there, and nothing stopping me from whacking for whatever I wanted to. And what did I end up with after 2 hours of chopping? 3 blisters (totally worth it), a bulging bicep (yes, it _does_ bulge if I flex just the right way…), and some great compost. Just think: all that anger helping to fuel next season's yummy organic veggies.

Oh, and I felt good. Yeah, I really _felt_ better. So bottom line: if you have any big old plants you need composted, I'm your girl. Or better yet, do it yourself.