22 Mar How Gardening taught me to love

This topic is something very dear to me. After dealing with suicidal thoughts and darkness I felt I couldn’t rid myself of – going outside and being in the light (literally) not only helped me overcome the feelings of loneliness I was experiencing. But, helped me become curious, kind and full of love.

When I was little my parents were very adamant about gardening, but I always harboured a dislike for it. Sitting out in the beating sun, sweat dripping down my neck, hands blistered from pulling out weeds and sweeping leaves – doesn’t exactly paint the picture of happiness. We ended up paving the yard with golden brown bricks, removing all the grass and vegetation we once had and installed a pool. For a family with severe plant allergies, this proved to be very fruitful. Although I must admit, I truly missed the petrichor smell after those winter storms. Hearing the bees in the morning, the true sound of the warm days of summer.

My high school life is something I try to forget. Others look fondly upon their high school years. I, on the other hand, lived fully in my first year at college. After experiencing a rough high school career, I had become hard and distant. Never fully letting anyone in and keeping people at arm’s length to protect me. I used to live for others, doing everything for them, only to have those feelings of devotion unreciprocated. So I became selfish and it got to the point where I became heartless. But gardening taught me how to love…and live.

My first admiration for gardening started when my local supermarket held a campaign to promote gardening, as many rural villages in South Africa find it difficult to gain access to supermarkets. This initiative was to teach children about the importance of planting your own produce, supporting local farmers and reducing the carbon footprint we leave on this planet. When you spent a certain amount of money, they gave you a “Little Garden” pack which contained seeds in a cotton strip, a little egg carton holder and a soil pod with information on the plant the seeds would grow up to become.

These plants became my life. I began researching everything about plants. How to replant them, protect them, love them. I enjoyed watching them grow – seeing their little heads poke through the soil. I felt like a proud plant parent.

Last year, in December, when the weather became warmer and pleasant, my dad and I decided to lift some of the bricks in our yard. It was a new adventure, a new beginning. I planted my little greenlings in the soil. Some died because the sun was too intense or drowned from the rain or were blown away by the wind. In spite of this, I learned to be patient and more attentive to the other plants. I always felt that I needed to get things right on the first try. That I needed to be special for some reason – I thought I wasn’t special enough. Through watching some of my plants die and seeing others thrive, I saw that in a way I could interact with the natural cycle of growth. As we venture into new territory, there will be challenges. Harsh sun, heavy rains and strong winds will be scattered across our lives and we need to learn to let go of past parts of ourselves to adapt. And let other parts grow.

A seedling will only protrude through the soil when it is ready. You cannot rush it, you cannot make it grow any slower or any faster than what it is intended to. This idea of taking not one’s own time, but enough time, to grow and develop is an important one. The idea of patience is valuable for any relationship. If I wanted my plants to grow, I needed to be patient with them.

Listen to them, while plants can’t exactly speak they have a body language of their own. Listen to what people say and watch their body language. We can tell people we’re fine, but our eyes, our mouth, our hands may say otherwise.

I cared for these plants and in turn, they have given me fruits, vegetables, herbs and added beauty to my once dull backyard. When I started gardening, I went in with the expectation that I was going to become some farmer. I had this little prairie dream.

But things change and we must learn to adapt – sometimes it means adapting our dreams. Not to accommodate others, but to include others. To love another without expecting anything but love in return – not monetary qualms and soulless daily messages.

Gardening taught me to love. To love others. And more importantly to love myself. To embrace my weaknesses and not see them as weaknesses but rather as opportunities to lift the bricks and start anew.

By: Zahraa

Schroeder

Zahraa Schroeder is a journalist and blogger, who loves the outdoors and uses her passion for nature to inspire and enliven. Growing up in South Africa, Zahraa was exposed to high volumes of diversity in culture and religion and uses her gusto for writing to spread mindfulness and the need to adopt an open-minded way of living. She is never afraid of a stage and is a true spotlight hog – besides writing, her second love is definitely public speaking.