Amanda Jones is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on sustainable living and decorating a home in way that is good for the environment. See the rest of her articles here.
As I write this I’m sat in my garden, the sun is shining, it's warm. There is a glass of cool water on the table beside me, I feel happy. I can hear the main road in the distance, my next-door neighbour (well into his 80s) is digging in his vegetable patch, the neighbours at the bottom of my garden are building an extension, I hear a hammer and occasionally a drill.
My focus however is on the bird song, which is abundant. We are surrounded by mature trees, providing habitat and food for them. I have sparrows nesting in the eaves of the roof, there is a robin in next-doors conifer, and a pigeon has found a spot in a nearby quince tree. My garden is my peace and my haven, my grounding, in turbulent times.
Today we have a mass of studies about the benefits of gardening on the human psyche, and our mental health. Research confirming how human contact with the soil, can directly alter the microbial content of our stomach, creating happy hormones, leading to a better balance of our minds. There are even some progressive NHS trusts, that prescribe garden therapy, alongside or instead of pharmaceutical interventions, for those struggling with their mental health.
Whilst all this is fascinating, I want to write about how being in my garden has helped me cope with grief, acceptance of a new life, and maintaining an equilibrium, in what is a challenging and complex life.
I think it all started with my Mum. She was a passionate gardener, despite her busy life, running a business, caring for her elderly parents and young family. Every spare moment she had, and there weren’t that many, she would rush out into her small garden to tend her plants. She grew vegetables, which was ironic as we lived in a corner shop and had plenty of food available. The desire to grow you own food, when you have it, is strong.
I must have been subconsciously influenced by my mother’s gardening passion, I certainly wasn’t weeding side by side with her as a child, I was off roaming the neighbourhood with my friends (to be honest, I’m not sure how welcomed I would have been, her garden was her sanctuary too). As soon as I got my own garden at twenty-one, I became instantly hooked, it was only then that I started to understand why my mum needed hers.
Initially gardening was a gentle hobby, pottering around my tiny patch, mainly at the weekends, or summer evenings. In hindsight, it helped me deal with some of the demands and stresses I had at work, although I probably wouldn’t have been able to articulate that back then. When I had my family, the garden for a while at least, was their play space. My needs fitted around theirs, at the edges, in the flower beds.
As I have grown older however, it has once again, become a vital space for me. The healing aspect of my garden truly came into play, when within just the space of a few months, my lovely mum was diagnosed with dementia, and I became ill, later to be diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. My whole life changed very suddenly, and I turned to my garden to help me cope with those changes. It has literally kept me sane in what at times, has felt like an insane life.
A few years later, when due to my deteriorating health, I had to finish the career I loved, my garden became a new focus on me. A way to keep both my mind and body active. I’ve had to make lots of adaptions to my garden to do this, and I may no longer garden in the way I did before, but the most important fact is, gardening is still accessible to me.
To me, it’s a meditation. Focusing on one small task at a time, I try and blank out the worldwide noise, and the noise that sometimes accumulates in my head. Gardening reduces that noise, it’s never completely gone, but for a short time it’s a manageable whisper.
When we plant a seed, we plant hope in our hearts. When we plant a tree, we create a future, the kind of future we envisage our grandchildren to live in. Gardening gives me all the usual benefits, being outside, moving my uncooperative body, getting some vitamin D, connecting to nature. It also gets me that vital dose of microbial soil medicine, that will enter my brain and affect my mood. But much more than that, it’s about hope.
I can’t control what’s happening in the world, or what our leaders do, or don’t do. I can’t control the damage big corporations are doing to our planet. Neither can I control the changes and complexities life throws at me. I can control however, the love and care that I give to the little patch of earth I’m custodian of. Gardening really does keep me grounded, focused. It’s my therapist, keeping my mind full of calmness and hope.
