Gardening 101

Yesterday I sat on a bench in my school’s garden, relieved to feel the warmth of the sun on the back of my neck, and the space around my heart expand, as I took what felt like my first deep breath in a month. I haven’t been the A+ girlfriend lately, nor do I feel I have been the most loving and caring of friends. Cloudy days, a hectic work schedule, a loud neighbor, and a trip to the emergency room with chest pains have thrown me off center. I have been sensitive and delicate these last few weeks, easy to snap and hard to please. I’ll be short with a friend or hard on my boyfriend, and then wonder why I feel lonely and afraid. I do know that peace comes from within, and I can’t rely on anyone else to make me feel happy or resolve what’s uncertain in my life. I also know that we all have times in our lives when we’re at less than our best, and friends are friends because they allow us a certain margin of error. But in my darker moments, I’ve cringed thinking about possible ripples of damage.

For example, my relationship is six months old, and still at a place where we’re forming our opinions of each other. Last Thursday, he caught me crying at 3:30 in the morning because I couldn’t sleep, and when he asked me what was wrong, I sputtered, “I feel like I’m going crazy.” All night I tossed and turned, and I would get angry with him every time I could feel his smallest of movements. The next morning, on my way to work, I couldn’t help but wonder, “Was that irreparable harm? Will he ever be able to find me attractive again, after watching me lose it?”

The school gardener, Misty, walked by as I pondered these questions. Our school is well-known in the city of San Francisco for its farm and garden, and Misty is responsible for the success of the plants, as well as six chickens and two sheep. I’ve always admired Misty. I often see her working in the garden as I rush by on my way from one campus to another, coffee in one hand and cell phone in the other. I’ve wished that I could exhibit her sense of poise and her calm demeanor. The fact that she tends to a beautiful, lush garden (I have a hard time raising one succulent plant) has not escaped my notice.

She sat down next to me. I decided to ask her the question that had always been on my mind every time I passed her in the garden, a question that—as silly as it sounded—I was particularly fascinated with at this moment of chaos in my own life: “Misty, I want to be a better gardener. How do you make this garden grow?”

This is what I learned:

1. First, be careful where you walk. Even if it looks like nothing has been planted in the soil, there are frequently seeds planted whose growth you can’t yet see. A good gardener will always be mindful of where she’s planted seeds and not step on new possibilities.