All bamboo is lucky... but not vice versa

It happens twice or thrice a week. A customer walks into the store with a look of determination on his or her face and asks if we actually sell just bamboo. Now, I have complete appreciation for a customer who knows what they want, but since this is an all-bamboo store, and virtually every item in here is bamboo, I usually just raise my eyebrows in expectation, waiting for a more specific request.

As often as not, when someone says they're just looking for actual bamboo, it's actually the plant commonly called Lucky Bamboo that they're seeking. As it happens, however, this "lucky bamboo" is really a species of dracaena, and entirely unrelated to the vast sub-family of true bamboos. (see photo above for contrast)

Dracaena sanderiana resembles bamboo in appearance, but is actually a hardy houseplant that thrives in water (no soil needed) and requires little or no natural sunlight (making it perfect for offices, bathrooms, and other indoor settings). Its appearance and ultra low-maintenance attributes are probably what earned it the name lucky bamboo.

In the Orient, Dracaena sanderiana has long been revered as a great remedy for feng shui. It is, in fact, quite lucky, but bamboo it's not. The 1200+ varieties of true bamboo technically belong to the grass family. They require full or at least partial sun exposure, some type of soil medium, and should most certainly be grown outdoors.

Because Bambu Batu is located indoors, with one large, east-facing window, it's fairly difficult to keep a true bamboo plant happy and healthy. We generally keep one specimen by the front door, where it gets good sun and plenty of fresh air, but I also rotate it with other potted bamboo specimens from my yard at home, so they are never stuck indoors for too long a stretch.

As for the Lucky Bamboo, yes, we do sell it. It is one of the 5 or 6 items at Bambu Batu not actually made from bamboo : )
...along with the Sparx soy candles, Sweet Earth fair trade chocolate, and No Enemy organic cotton t-shirts.

Transcendence and the Collective Self

When we grapple to understand life's most puzzling mysteries, we can often look to nature to find the basic patterns that illustrate the most complex aspects of human behavior and psychological development.

As we've demonstrated earlier in this blog, bamboo provides a reliable model for understanding some of human nature's highest qualities and greatest aspirations.

A perennial grass that grows from a prolific system of rhizomes and adventitious roots, bamboo finds strength in numbers. A single root system can produce hundreds of high-flying shoots, each stretching for the sun and spreading its leaves in the fresh air. At times these individual shoots may compete for resources, but more often, the greater intelligence of the rhizome network knows to spread and avoid such self-destructive competition.

Over the years, a patch of bamboo can grow exceedingly thick and excessively dense. For the collective advantage of the grove, individual shoots may be crowded out, or they may need to be removed through selective harvesting. Enter the blade of the scythe, universal symbol for the Grim Reaper: man's worst fear and the greatest nemesis of human consciousness.

But when we recognize our role in a larger system and understand our relationship to something higher and more meaningful, then we see for ourselves the overall unimportance of the individual. Detaching from our own selfish identities, we free ourselves from the bounds of the ego, and elevate to a higher state of consciousness, to find ourselves serving a healthier and more functional community.

This holistic model functions on every level. In our own bodies, cells are constantly dying and decaying, by the hundreds and thousands. The individual's significance has limitations. In about seven years, not a single molecule in our body will remain. Each will be replaced by a younger, fresher one, and we will go on living.

And when a tattered old stalk of bamboo meets its end and falls to the ground, a vigorous young shoot will be there to fill its place - or perhaps it will find an even better place where it can thrive and bring good to the grove. So the cycle of eternal return repeats itself, again and again, as it has since the beginning of time.


In memory of Donald William Hornaday (2/7/1941 - 1/21/2009)