When I’m stressed by the heavy workload or complicated relationships, which may lead to a toxic thinking that I am a useless person, I often find myself calm and peaceful when I do the gardening.
I think that I have more control over my “garden” than over my work life and my home life. I’m having 3 Malabar spinach plants in a paper cup in my office. Whenever I think that I’m a useless person, the plants remind me that at least, my breath is useful for them. In doing the gardening, I’m taking back the control of my world.
But not that much. I made a cactus died because of too much watering. I sowed 10 seeds but only two sprouted. One of them was bitten by a snail. The only one left died when I backed home for a week and put it in a dark room. Then I sowed the seeds again. Again. Again. Adjust the amount of water. Let the plant exposed to the sunshine. A lot of adjustment and rework. I experienced the taste of failure in even the “easiest” thing like gardening until I realize that I when I take things seriously, my behavior changes, my results changes too. Nothing is easy. Nothing is difficult. It’s my attitude.
Last but not least, one of the purposes of the gardening is the harvest, which is the reward for all my hard work, my desire, my effort. I water my three plants every day, turn the cup around to ensure that all three plants can receive the sunshine. I witness their slow growth, enjoy the happiness of achievement when “nothing” from bare soil becomes “something” like a plant, “tiny” seed becomes “big” tree, one leaf becomes many leaves. I feel like I blow the spirit into a seed and make it a lively creature. I can buy a kilogram of vegetables available in the supermarket, but nothing can be compared with my plants. The harvest is the end of a progress. It requires hard work, wise mind, and a lot of patience. Sometimes I’m stressed by the thinking that I have to hurry up to keep pace with my friends, the plants remind me that each plant has their own blooming season. All I need to do is keep patience and do my best. (I am perhaps a bamboo, which blooms once in one hundred years and die after that, or some plant that never blooms, but it doesn’t matter anymore).
It sounds funny to left my mother’s huge garden in my hometown behind to find the meaning of gardening in a paper cup with three Malabar spinach plants. I missed my mom and her dirty hands a lot. In gardening, I find the connection between my mom and me and the generation connections in general. I saw the life cycle, a shorter version in the plants and a longer version of myself.
Giang Nguyen, Aug 4, 2018
