I’ve heard it said that gardening is good for the soul. Almost every year of my life I have had a vegetable garden and certainly always enjoyed eating fresh produce from it, but I never cared much for tending the garden. As a child it was one of my chores to weed the garden, but of course that is never much fun, not like picking tomatoes or corn or cucumbers or squash.
My husband used to call me a deist gardener, because I would do the work of soil preparation, plant the seeds, fertilize and water – set the whole thing spinning in motion – and then step back to let whatever was going to happen, happen. After spending a school year with one-hundred or so sixth graders, and trying to catch up during the summer on all the housework, home projects, my own children, and much-needed rest, I just never seemed to have time to maintain what I started in the raised plot I called our family garden. But this summer, my first summer in retirement, I have not only set the garden in motion once, twice, only to have my tender squash blossoms, okra blooms, and almost ripe tomatoes gobbled up by voracious deer, but I have actually begun all over again the third time this year, this time, using ample amounts of a natural deer and rabbit repellent spray, apparently made of rotten eggs, and touted as a liquid fence. We’ll see how that goes. Meanwhile, with quiet time weeding and turning soil and planting again, I’d like to share with you some lessons life in my garden has taught me:
- There are some things I cannot do anything about. When I acknowledge that, it takes the pressure and stress off me to change what I cannot change and lets me be more focused and productive on what I can.
- I compost. Coffee filters and grinds, egg shells, peach and potato peelings, bruised bits of tomatoes. It’s not pretty or sweet smelling during the rotting process, but once the process is complete, that stuff sure makes everything my garden produces prettier and sweeter and in the end, enriches my garden and benefits me.
- No matter what, if I really want a garden and all its benefits, I’m going to have to put in time and energy. And be very patient.
- If it’s not the rabbits, it’ll be the deer, and if not the deer, birds, and if not birds, caterpillars. There will always be someone ready to dismantle my work and take the fruits of my labors, but if I want the garden, I’ll plant anyway, and do the work, and do it again if I have to.
- There are going to be weeds. I don’t have to pull them all at one time but the longer I leave them, the deeper the roots, and the more nutrients they will take away from the plants I do want to produce. Pull the weeds. Early. Roots and all.
- Water, water, water. If it doesn’t rain, I have to water. There is a point of no return, when the garden has gone too long without water, when the damage is done and there is no recovery possible. I try not to get there.
- There is a season for everything. I might plant something out of season that will take root, but it won’t produce. Enjoy the pleasures each season brings and take them in their turn.
- Chemicals may help short term, but they have long-term downsides. I try not to rely on them.
- The garden is a great place to center and be in the moment. I frequently pause and focus on each sense, naming what I see, smell, feel, taste and hear. A good way to stop worrying about the past or the future and just enjoy the moment.
- The soil can be stripped of nutrients and energy, and must have a time to rest and renew, just like me, or it becomes barren and unable to yield. Just like me.
So, how does your garden grow? Share in the comments what your garden produces, physically or metaphysically. I’d love to hear from you.
Friends, in this gardening season, I wish you joy as you tend and cultivate the garden that is your life, hope for what may come, peace with what you have, and light to see the results of your labors.