the compassion of gardening

I’ve always claimed to be a lousy gardner. No green thumb, not even a slightly brown thumb. Turns out that it’s not that I don’t like gardening, it’s that I’ve never had the time to really dedicate to it. While on maternity leave I’ve had that time and it’s been amazingly rewarding. I’ve planted azaleas, petunias, herbs, you name it!


I’m shocked by how much I’m enjoying this. Now it’s early going so we’ll see how it all ends up but as of right now I’m hooked. Gardening really requires a slowing of the senses. Every little blossom sparks excitement, each new green leaf is cause for celebration. Gardening has become a great way for me to stretch my compassion muscle. If I can care this much for a plant certainly I can manage more for my fellow human beings. That’s the hope anyway.

Sometimes we find it easier to feel compassion for those things that can’t talk back. Plants, pets, it always amazes me what people will do for a dog that they won’t for a human. Not that I don’t care about dogs as much as the next person but seriously!

Speaking of compassion, read this great piece from the Bloggess.


One thought on “the compassion of gardening

  1. Mark says:

    Welcome to the green side! Apart from raising chickens, nothing has been as satisfying for our family as raising our own fruits and veggies. We’ve recently ventured out into purely aesthetic plants, too, but it’s the self-sufficiency part of gardening we like the most.

    There’s all sorts of fodder for philosophical inquiry in growing plants for the sake of beauty, too, though.

    Happy farming!

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