WHAT I'VE LEARNED FROM GARDENING - A REFLECTION FROM THE BLOOMERIE AT PATINA MEADOW

This marks my fifth year of gardening. My fifth year with rosy, freckled cheeks and a sunburnt neck, with soil-stained clothes and dirt embedded beneath my fingernails, with pockets filled with seeds, clippers, and sometimes a freshly pulled carrot or two.

Over the seasons, I have gleaned quite a bit of knowledge about the practice of growing vegetables and flowers. I know how to start seedlings and how to keep them alive. I know how and when to plant them in the ground, and what necessary steps I must take in order to ensure they do not die the next day. I know when and how to water them, fertilize them, tend to them, and eventually harvest from them.

Armed with all of this information, one might imagine that I have “figured it out.” That I no longer walk into the greenhouse to discover trays that are meant to be colored with bright green, thriving seedlings that are instead still the dark brown of bare soil because the seeds did not germinate. That I would never again see a plant that was alive the day before now wilted and dead in the dirt. That I would never walk out with an empty harvest basket during the height of the season.

But, oh, how wrong you would be.

Because, along with the knowledge, I have gathered a bit of wisdom as well.

Even armed with all the information my mind can manage to remember, I am not in control. I cannot tell the weather to be warm or cool. I cannot cause the clouds to fill with rain and sprinkle just the right amount, not too much or too little, on the crops that need it. I cannot speak the language of the caterpillars and ask them politely not to munch on leaves.

I am not perfect. I do not always act with the information at my disposal. Sometimes leaves wilt in the afternoon sun because I forgot to water the roots. I miss planting windows. I do not sterilize my tools after cutting from a diseased plant. I make mistakes, and sometimes I do not learn from them.

Though the facts about plant growth are beneficial and can make me sound smart in conversation when the topic arises, they are not the greatest lessons I have learned. The most valuable insights are those that go beyond the bounds of the garden.

I have learned that preparation can only take you so far. You must act. There is no substitution for experience. Although it can be scary, and you may never feel quite prepared, a step forward, even if it feels as though it is into the dark unknown, must still be taken. You will surprise yourself once you do, oftentimes in good ways and sometimes in bad, but both mean that you have moved further along.

Balance is a myth. Attempting to maintain it in every moment will exhaust you. There are seasons marked by incessant movement. Your feet will tire, and your mind will feel as though it turns to mush. And there are seasons where you will have to stay still and wish that there was more you could do. Allow each to exist and flow freely into the next when the time comes.

Not everything is meant to grow forever. Just because something is taking up space in your life does not mean that it is helpful to you. Oftentimes, it is the weeds that grow best. Desirable plants take longer and require more care. Let those dreams bear fruit, and then, once they begin to wither, let them go so you can make room for something else to flourish.

Give yourself grace. Mistakes will be made. Learn from them, but do not get stuck in them. Celebrate your successes. Remember them often.

There will always be more to do, but if you do not rest, you will not be around to do it.

Have faith. Always. Death is not the end. It is an opportunity for new life. Trust in God, and trust that He will hold to His promises. Hold true to yours.

It is from this earth I came, and it is to this earth I will return, but until then, I pray that I continue to learn and grow every day. I pray that I have many more years in the garden to play in the soil and watch plants grow, that I eat a thousand more tomatoes from the vine, and pick all the flowers I can muster the strength to. I hope you will, too.

Love,

Leila