Take ten of them. Put them in a pot. Water them.

There is something almost laughable about a mustard seed. Hold one in the palm of your hand, and you’ll barely feel it. It looks like a speck of reddish-brown dust. It is, botanically speaking, a overachiever with an inferiority complex.

Planting a mustard seed is an act of faith in small beginnings. It is proof that you do not need a massive budget or a green thumb to create abundance. You just need to start. Go to the spice aisle of your grocery store. Buy the $2 jar of whole yellow mustard seeds. (Yes, the same ones you use for hot dogs. They aren't treated; they will grow.)

In three days, you will see a tiny green hook emerge from the soil. And I promise you, when you see that tiny hook splitting that tiny seed, you will feel like you could move a mountain.

Here is why planting a mustard seed is the most rewarding, chaotic, and delicious gardening project you’ll start this season. Most vegetables take forever. You plant a tomato in May and pray for a BLT by August. Mustard? Mustard is the caffeine shot of the garden.

We’ve all heard the proverbial saying about "faith the size of a mustard seed" moving mountains. But as a gardener, I’m less interested in the metaphor and more interested in the miracle. You can read that quote in a book a hundred times, but you won’t understand it until you drop one of those specks into a pot of dirt and watch what happens next.

We spend so much time feeling like we don’t have enough. Not enough money, not enough time, not enough skill. We think we need a "big" seed to grow a "big" result.

If you harvest them when they are small (2-3 inches), they taste like wasabi arugula. Perfect on a steak sandwich. If you let them get large, they taste like fire, but you can sauté them in bacon fat to mellow them into a savory Southern side dish. I know I said I wouldn’t focus on the metaphor, but I have to.