I am a keen but lousy gardener. Fortunately, Rick and I don’t have to rely on my crops to survive. If we did, we would be very hungry! My garden teaches me lessons the hard way, during the precious growing season. So, it’s too late for my crop and I have to wait until next year to try again. If failures and mistakes are our best teachers, I have had many stellar learning opportunities! After 10 years of many mistakes, I’m starting to learn some lessons. While I will never be an expert gardener, I am slowly getting better. Also, my list of plants also needs work for people. This is what I have been learning:
Plants need the right conditions. Gardening is very complicated. Each plant has a series of needs. I am constantly experimenting to see where different crops will thrive. Do you want a sandy or alkaline soil? Is this piece of land full of nutrients or has it been depleted due to overuse? How much sun does this place get? Is it the dappled light of early morning or the heat of the afternoon? Is it too windy? Humidity levels and the types of plants nearby affect success.
I was surprised to learn that when a plant is stressed by poor conditions, it can succumb to insects and other parasites. When a plant is healthy and happy, it can protect itself from insects. If this sounds crazy to you, google the Chemical and Engineering News article titled “Plants Use Volatile Signaling Compounds to Defend Against Attack and Possibly Warn Nearby Plants.” (Warn nearby plants!?) Cornell University also writes about this phenomenon and The Middletown Journal says: “Stressed plants living in poor, barren soil actually attract pests and diseases. Healthy plants in healthy soil they can fend off most diseases and insect pests.”
Does this sound familiar? If I’m in healthy relationships, in an occupation that suits my talents and interests, and getting enough rest, play, and spiritual nourishment, I’m more likely to avoid physical and emotional ailments.
For many years I worked in the theater. I was often angry, paranoid, envious, and scared. I then left the theater and took up my current position in corporate training at a local community college. No longer competing for prizes or highly coveted theater projects, I suddenly felt relaxed. Being new to the field of corporate training, I was not afraid of failure, I was intrigued and appreciative of the work. The difference in my psychological state was immediate and amazing. It was as if I had suddenly been transplanted into the right land for me. Also, because I was happy and relaxed all the time, new lucrative opportunities appeared and I was ready for them. In the theater, he was so stressed that even when he found an opportunity, he was often too tense to succeed.
I was the same person but in a better location. Finding the right “soil” for us is key. What do you need in your work? Extroversion? Creativity? Competence? Routine? Stability? Excitement? I have seen — in my garden and myself — that the right environment is the difference between sickness and health.
Stressed plants produce little. If a plant is stressed, like many people, it will fight valiantly against growing enemies but will do little. I remember a pitted yellow bean plant that only produced one or two beans all season. Before I wasted too many resources, I just pulled it up and started over. Similarly, are we willing to switch off our ambitions and plans and change course when a situation is not working for us? A friend, Mona, is true to her name: she moans a lot. She is extremely unhappy in her job and has talked about quitting for many years. As her unhappiness has increased, she has developed a chronic bad mood and reacts angrily when she learns of someone else’s good fortune. Mona is terrified of change and although she is desperate to quit, she struggles to stay positive and not let her growing anxiety, depression and anger take over. She continues, like my sick plants, persevering. And like my plants, her woes are obvious to everyone around her. Like a diseased plant, Mona can produce a bean or two, but she spends most of her energy fighting enemies from without and within.
Plants need space. As a new gardener, I often tried to fit too many plants into a small space. He was excited and the plants were small. But as they grew, my beloved vegetables succumbed to disease, died inexplicably, or stunted and underperformed. He hadn’t given them enough room to thrive. The same principle applies to my coworkers and me. Do we give ourselves enough psychological space to relax, rest, and find our own unique nutrients?
Plants need to be fed. Good soil = great vegetables. I’ve started tending some worms in my basement (really!) so I can harvest their excellent guts. LOVES wormy plants. It may seem like a big deal, but just like people, plants need to be fed to stay healthy and productive. Apart from good nutritious food, how do you eat?
Sometimes detective work and perseverance are required. For the last few years my squash and cucumber plants have been devastated without producing a single vegetable! At first, I assumed it was “bad luck,” but as the years went by without a single zucchini, I began to do some detective work. Was this the work of the black walnut trees that had demolished my tomatoes years ago? No, I had moved my entire garden to avoid the poison emitted by the roots of the trees. Was it lack of water or too much water? Did they need fertilizer? No. No. No. A Google search revealed the culprit: the pumpkin vine borer. This pernicious pest buries itself in the soil so that next year it will be ready to kill your new crop. They advised me to burn my old plants (hadn’t done that) and apply poison to the stems (tried that, didn’t work), inject good parasites into the stems (inject???), cover with mesh (only if the soil is not infected, how can I be sure?), plant later in the season (tried, didn’t work), or check daily to remove the borer before it bores. Oh! This was going to be a difficult task. Why was it so hard for me? Co-workers were donating large quantities of giant pumpkins from their bountiful harvests. Why was my garden so plagued?
As an ardent Cubs fan, I clung to the idea of ”next year’s win.” But I was beginning to see that good luck wouldn’t help me with the dreaded borer. I’m not sure about my plan for the next season. Maybe I’ll skip the squash and cucumber for a couple of seasons. Or maybe you could create a new plot and cover it with mesh? Could I grow them inside? (I love garden zucchini!) Whatever my plan, I see this challenge as a metaphor for my soul’s work. Some crops come easy to me: lettuce, beans (most of the time), spinach. These are like my natural abilities and talents. I can be patient when someone is mad at me. I’m a very good listener. But I’m impatient with certain projects and may have problems with some types of criticism. These are my unique challenges. I can do detective work and discover the source of my illness and then I can look for solutions. My challenges are different from the problems of my neighbors. I don’t need to compare myself. I just need to look for my own different remedies.
Remove small weeds before they grow: Even though I mulch (which led to slug problems), I am forced to weed regularly. It always amazes me how much I enjoy weeding, when I finally get started. It’s a wonderful, visceral metaphor for how to eradicate problems. After several hours, I see a clean area of soil. I wish I could eliminate my bad habits or perceptions that quickly! As a manager, I also need to pull out small weeds (misunderstandings or negative attitudes) before they become big, intractable problems for my team.
Change of seasons: a garden is not a static place. Not only do the seasons change, but from year to year, the amount of rain, sun, heat, and wind can differ drastically. Two years ago a large breeding of chipmunks decimated my tomatoes while they were ripening. The following year they left my crop alone.
Taking care of a garden (or the garden of my soul) requires that I be attentive to the real conditions of today (not yesterday or tomorrow). I learn to be in the flow of life, the Tao. Most importantly, I learn humility. Nature is bountiful with delicious treats. She is also mysterious and powerful. I cannot dictate my will to you. Instead, I must learn from her and be patient.
