To Thrive During a Pandemic, We Can Look to our Gardens for 7 Lessons

My children sometimes joke that I love my garden more than I love them. Admittedly, I have been prone to obsess over my plants or take one too many photos of flowering peonies. But gardening serves as one of my respites and inspirations. And, I am not alone. Whether Americans are deciding to grow a ‘Victory Garden’ to provide mind and body nourishment, planting flowers for enjoyment, or even building a garden as a place to raise chickens or undertake more elaborate farming projects, people seem to be finding their green thumbs.

I think there are lessons to be taken from the patient, constant work that gardening requires. Here are seven thoughts I have been incorporating into my work as President and CEO of Counterpart International as we work to help communities around the world become more resilient.

#1 A crappy situation can make for the richest of soils

Compost can be smelly, unpleasant, and unsightly…but compost becomes fragrant and the richest of soils. I think often about some of the most difficult times in my life: the physical separation from home and family when I’m away for work in various regions, and the need for constant adaptation to engaging with diverse perspectives. These challenges preceded tremendous growth, not only for myself, but, most importantly, for our projects.

When I chose to surrender to the experience, accepted I was no longer in control, and became present in the new reality, a situation that once felt overwhelming created a rich soil that let beauty flourish. 

Yes, the situation we find ourselves in stinks. But I am hopeful that good things will grow out of it. 

#3 A strong root system will help you become resilient.

A strong root system will withstand the most catastrophic events. The only way to weather devastating storms is to have deep roots in community. Building a strong root system in life requires respect for the past, a firm embrace of the present, and mindful reflection. It takes real concentration and will. It also takes connectivity to others around, and to our past. Some of my most treasured plants in the garden come from my childhood home, dug up by my father for me when I moved to a new home to start my own family since he wanted me to have that reminder of my past as I embraced my future. Other plants come from my 90-year-old neighbor who taught me how to dig out a lily without breaking the root system, and this reminds me every day of how much we learn from our elders when we take the time to listen.

Building that depth and the connections to others really does pay off: root systems that connect to other root systems keep you in place even during the worst storms. 

Reach out and make your root system even stronger.

#4 There is beauty in broken things. 

In my garden, I have a place where I incorporate bits of old porcelain that can no longer function as cups, plates or bowls because they broke, but the pieces were too beautiful to just toss in the garbage. It’s impossible to be a materialist when one can see the beauty in items that ceased serving their original purpose. There is beauty in letting go, in not holding on too tight to things that break, of finding a new sense of beauty in something that does not work as designed any more but still holds value. Our challenge now is to find the beauty in the broken, and use that inspiration to rebuild.

#5 Only plant what you want to grow. 

In his poem, Practice This New Birdcall, the Sufi poet Haftz writes, “There is nothing in your mind, You have not invited in.” Don’t plant weeds in your garden. And, if you see one, firmly tear it out by its roots and don’t allow it to grow. 

You can do the same thing to your mind. Do not allow bad thoughts or defeatist sentiment to linger and they will not be able to grow roots.

You have the power to weed your mind. (I do it often.)

#6 Small things can bring great joy, but only when you can see them.

I am often too busy to fully appreciate the little things. I’m too focused on the bigger picture. I get distracted. Right after my father passed away, I discovered a bleeding heart plant in the backyard, something I didn’t plant and hadn’t seen before. It appeared with six pink hearts hanging from the stem. This gave me such joy since I took it as a sign that my father, who gave me my love of gardening, was still with me and always would be. We had six in the family I grew up in, and there are six of us in my family now. 

What small wonder did you see today that gave you joy, even in the saddest of times?

#7 Even the soil needs rest.

Being productive wears the soil out. Letting it rest a bit can lead to its rejuvenation. Sometimes growth, change, and expansion can just be too overwhelming and require a reset. That’s okay. 

Be kind to the soil, and be kind to yourself.