Gardening Lessons

It’s early summer, the season of roses, zinnias, peonies, and dahlias. Who doesn’t love a colorful garden? I have always admired residential gardens, pausing during neighborhood walks to admire them, breathing deeply to take in the scent. My neighbor’s gardens have often enriched long walks with my babies. But throughout all these years, I have never mustered the courage or energy to garden in my own yard. Beyond a few half hearted attempts at potted herbs or some wild flower seed mix thrown in the dirt, I just couldn’t bring myself to make the leap. Childhood memories of failed vegetable gardens in a yard with too much clay and too little sun gave me pause. But mostly, the idea of investing any real amount of work or resources for something that is purely aesthetic, just didn’t seem worth it in those early, tiring days of motherhood. The fact that we are always in rental homes for three years or less didn’t help.

But last year, as we prepared to move into our seventh home, I decided that this time would be different. After a decade of moving with the military, I’ve learned that three to four years is as much permanency as we will ever have in one home. And I was ready to be able to enjoy our outdoor space as much as the indoors. When we found a home at our new duty station in Italy, with a small (i.e. manageable) yard that had already been carefully landscaped, the stage was perfectly set. After nearly a year in our current home, we are now enjoying our time outdoors just as much as I hoped. But it turns out that the beautiful things I have discovered in this process have not been limited to the flowers.

Getting Dirty is Cathartic

I have to admit that one of the reasons that gardening failed to appeal to me for a long time, is that I don’t particularly like being in the dirt. However, as I have taken time to kneel, dig, and work in the dirt, I have found it to be a good form of stress relief. Working with my hands, maybe working up a sweat, getting grimy – it’s one way to work out some of the tensions that build up throughout the week. Unplugging and getting outside helps me to clear my mind and boosts my creativity. Sometimes I walk into my house and just begin to feel overwhelmed with all the tasks awaiting me, not knowing where to start. So I turn around and walk back outside to walk around and pull weeds. Or I might grab a broom and sweep the porch. I never feel so like I belong in Italy as when I sweep outdoors. I used to laugh a little and wonder why Italian people are always outside sweeping, even if it’s just a small stoop. What is the point in trying to keep an outdoor space so clean? Don’t they know more leaves will blow back over it just a few minutes later? But now I understand. When it feels like nothing is in your control, or the list is too long, this is something you accomplish . A clean and clear entryway is always within reach. And after a few minutes of sweeping I usually feel so much better and ready to take on the rest of the day. 

The Kids Are Always Watching

The more that my kids see me working in the garden, the more they want to help. Sometimes I feel hesitant; anyone with young kids knows that their “help” isn’t always helpful. But then I realize what an amazing opportunity this is to do something together, to work towards a common goal, and to pass on some of the beautiful lessons that can be learned in a garden. My daughters planted tulip bulbs in the fall – work that did not yield immediate results and required months of waiting. But when Spring came and we watched those beautiful flowers grow and bloom, there was no question in anyone’s mind – good things come to those who wait. 

Beauty is worth it

Is the time, energy, and money worth it for something that is aesthetic rather than functional? Is it worth it for something as short-lived as a tulip? I now believe that if the time and resources are available, it is absolutely worth it. When we first moved back to Italy, my nine year old remarked on a fundamental part of the culture that she observed: “In America, it’s all about big, big, and bigger. Here in Italy, it’s all about what is beautiful,” she said. She was definitely on to something. If Italian culture has taught us anything, it is the importance of cultivating beauty, simply for beauty’s sake. Perhaps a flower garden doesn’t deliver any tangible gain. But it gives us a smile when we get out of the car after a long day. It makes us want to spend more time outside in the fresh air and sunshine. It reminds us that there is a season for everything, and that winters will always come to an end. 

Roots Run Deep

Here in Italy, it is commonplace for lease agreements to include a provision for annual tree-trimming. Throughout the Fall and Winter, landscapers can be spotted everywhere scaling trees and shrubs way back. After they finished at our home last Fall, I was shocked to see just how much they cut back. It made me wonder if this was a special trimming that happened only every five years or so, because it appeared like it would take years for some of the plants to grow back. But low and behold, as Spring unfolded, I was amazed to see how quickly everything grew back. New sprigs and leaves appeared overnight. Rose bushes and grape vines experienced veritable explosions in just a few days’ time. I grew up in the suburbs of the American Southeast, where most of the neighborhoods were not much older than me. There were some mature azaleas and dogwoods, but so many of the plants were relatively new. Here, it is different. People have been living in and cultivating these villages for many decades, or even centuries. Even though these plants are getting cut back to practically nothing, they are able to rebound so quickly because of their mature roots. They may lay dormant and cold all winter, but their roots run deep. As soon as a season with enough sun and water appears, growth resumes. This is the perfect picture of growth throughout a lifetime, and for me personally a good reminder about spiritual growth and stability. There may be dry or cold seasons, where my faith feels dormant. The storms of life do come and toss me around, knocking me down. I may be hurt by others and tempted to respond in kind. But I know that the roots of my faith run deep. I am not left with nothing. There will be breaks in the storms. The sun will eventually shine. And when it does, those roots will nourish new growth once again. Once I am able to catch my breath and get my bearings, those soft green spring shoots will push to the surface what I have always believed to be true. That love will always conquer fear and hate. That I can rise above. That I can teach my children to do the same. 

I am only the most amateur of gardeners. But the tenacity and vibrancy of flowers is giving me life. I am privileged to be a student of these flowers. I know that I have only begun to scratch the surface of what they have to teach me.