Here in Vermont almost everyone I know has a garden of some kind. It may only consist of a few containers of tomatoes, basil, and lettuce on the porch or patio. It may include some raised beds, allowing for more extensive veggies. Or, as in my case, we get right down in the dirt among rows of kale, cabbage, beets, lettuce, cucumbers, tomatoes, celeriac, and the like. My partner Jim ran an organic vegetable farm in earlier days and has taught me so much about how things germinate and grow. He still enjoys starting plants from seed. Right now we have a flat of new lettuces, kohlrabi, cauliflower and broccoli sitting in the sun provided by the big south facing window.
A garden is blissful and yet it’s often both a struggle against critters and a struggle with our own aging bodies. We try to outdo the bugs, using only sprays that are organically acceptable. But that struggle with our aches and pains? There’s no spray for that. We set up lawn chairs in convenient locations, keep our water bottles beside them, and take breaks that way. When it’s too hot, the breaks occur indoors.
For me, stretching in between tasks and varying my posture makes a huge difference. Sometimes I weed walking along with a tall hoe, sometimes I’m crawling around like a cat with a hand hoe, both knees on the ground. Other times it’s one knee on the ground, one bent leg with foot on the ground. The dirt and I are good friends.
And as you might guess, taking tai chi breaks really helps. Working in the garden can feel like WORK, while tai chi feels like PLAY. The garden produces food (and a few flowers too). Tai chi produces deep relaxation, meditation, a sense of grace and power.
I needed to read this today. My city garden feels like a battleground. We are in another slapstick fight with a groundhog. Between attacks on my kale, chard, and green beans he leans on the trap to take a rest and survey his kingdom. I have seen him play in the tubtrug full of garlic foliage I meant to put in the compost. In the morning air, he stands on his hind feet and gently picks raspberries and gooseberries. My kale is all gone and the chard and greenbeans are showing the first signs of a full blown mow down. I suppose this is all a complement: my garden is more enticing than the cantaloupe and peanut butter in the Have a Heart trap. Maybe I should turn my raised beds into flower beds with ceramic sculptures in them and you can come and teach tai chi on the warm bricks of the patio???