life in lockdown 4 - connected
It's been a sunny Sunday morning, with a chilly bite to the breeze but, still, a great day for gardening. I was out there for hours, with a break for lunch, and finally got around to doing some of the tasks that I've been meaning to do for weeks. I cut down a couple of dead shrubs, pruned the overgrown ornamental grass, re-potted the small myrtle. And I sowed carrot and beetroot seeds. And marigold, nasturtium, and dwarf sunflower seeds for a bit of colour in the summer. And I pottered around for a while, without aim. This is a vitally important part of gardening. Empty your mind, and wander around, trowel in hand but with no particular aim, other than to admire the plants.
It's the emptying of the mind that is the important part. Existing in neutral for a while. I had a down day yesterday. No energy, dark thoughts, no wish to do anything, say anything, read or write anything. I probably wouldn't have eaten much either if dinner hadn't been cooked for me. I've not done a bad job of staying on track through lockdown. I've had maybe four days like I had yesterday, and I'm counting myself lucky. The uncertainty about the future, fear, lack of income, worry about family and friends. We're all feeling these things at the moment, and it's difficult to remain upbeat and positive, and we've probably all got different ways of dealing with this situation. Being outdoors, in nature, and gardening is one thing I know will lift my spirits. It's about connection.
Having my hands in soil connects me to the Earth, and to Mother Nature. It makes me feel very grounded, if you'll forgive the pun. Getting my hands dirty is very relaxing and empties my mind of worries. It stops me living inside my own mind for a while, helps me escape my own thoughts, troubling thoughts. I focus on a task, or I focus on admiring the flowers, but I don't worry about my life.
Sowing seeds connects me to every other hopeful gardener in the world. You push a seed into a pot of warm soil, cover it, water it and hope that it'll grow. It's an investment in the future. I'm saying this seed will grow into a beautiful plant. I'll be patient, I'll watch it grow, and at some, unspecified, point of time in the future I'll see it flower, produce fruit, set seed. And in this pretty simple hope, I'm no different to anyone else who has done the same thing, in a different garden today, or at any point back through human history. This simple act connects me right back through the generations, and through time. And that is very comforting, makes me feel far less alone in my striving, in my living a life.
Gardening also connects me to my mother, who passed away about six weeks ago. She was a really good gardener, was gifted with green fingers. She first encouraged me to view a garden as something other than a venue for ball games. She taught me the names of all the trees, shrubs and flowers in her garden. She taught me all the names of the songbirds too. For both of these alone I'll always be grateful to her. She would have dropped the first few seeds into my small, open palm, and encouraged me to scatter them on the soil. I don't remember specifically, but I'm going to guess they would have been marigold seeds. Her garden was full of marigolds, and they are relatively easy to grow, especially for a child. I still love them to this day. Any day that I step out into the garden, now, I'm meeting my mum out there. I'm re-connecting with her, and we're sharing the simple pleasure of sowing some seeds and investing some hope in the future.
Photo is the author's own.
It's the emptying of the mind that is the important part. Existing in neutral for a while. I had a down day yesterday. No energy, dark thoughts, no wish to do anything, say anything, read or write anything. I probably wouldn't have eaten much either if dinner hadn't been cooked for me. I've not done a bad job of staying on track through lockdown. I've had maybe four days like I had yesterday, and I'm counting myself lucky. The uncertainty about the future, fear, lack of income, worry about family and friends. We're all feeling these things at the moment, and it's difficult to remain upbeat and positive, and we've probably all got different ways of dealing with this situation. Being outdoors, in nature, and gardening is one thing I know will lift my spirits. It's about connection.
Having my hands in soil connects me to the Earth, and to Mother Nature. It makes me feel very grounded, if you'll forgive the pun. Getting my hands dirty is very relaxing and empties my mind of worries. It stops me living inside my own mind for a while, helps me escape my own thoughts, troubling thoughts. I focus on a task, or I focus on admiring the flowers, but I don't worry about my life.
Sowing seeds connects me to every other hopeful gardener in the world. You push a seed into a pot of warm soil, cover it, water it and hope that it'll grow. It's an investment in the future. I'm saying this seed will grow into a beautiful plant. I'll be patient, I'll watch it grow, and at some, unspecified, point of time in the future I'll see it flower, produce fruit, set seed. And in this pretty simple hope, I'm no different to anyone else who has done the same thing, in a different garden today, or at any point back through human history. This simple act connects me right back through the generations, and through time. And that is very comforting, makes me feel far less alone in my striving, in my living a life.
Gardening also connects me to my mother, who passed away about six weeks ago. She was a really good gardener, was gifted with green fingers. She first encouraged me to view a garden as something other than a venue for ball games. She taught me the names of all the trees, shrubs and flowers in her garden. She taught me all the names of the songbirds too. For both of these alone I'll always be grateful to her. She would have dropped the first few seeds into my small, open palm, and encouraged me to scatter them on the soil. I don't remember specifically, but I'm going to guess they would have been marigold seeds. Her garden was full of marigolds, and they are relatively easy to grow, especially for a child. I still love them to this day. Any day that I step out into the garden, now, I'm meeting my mum out there. I'm re-connecting with her, and we're sharing the simple pleasure of sowing some seeds and investing some hope in the future.
Photo is the author's own.
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