Mindfulness in the Garden

INTRODUCTION


Tucked in the far left corner of my childhood home lived a handsome row of silvery-green-leafed Russian olive trees, Elaeagnus angustifolia. Beneath their thorny boughs—young knees to the ground and body in an earthly bow—I became a gardener at the tender age of eight. Gardening without gloves, I loved the feel of the earth in my hands: its rich, aromatic texture, warmed by the sun. I still do.

I surrendered many childhood struggles at the feet of those olive trees. I found solace in their silent presence. Grateful for their company, I instinctively knew my survival was intimately connected to theirs. As I stepped away from the carefully tended band of soil that held the olive tree roots firm to the earth, I saw the rich brown soil free from the tangle of weeds that once claimed its clarity. In this clearing, the knot in my mind loosened, and my heart was put at ease.

Now, many years into my practice as a landscape architect, gardening remains a true love. Nature is a place where I come back to myself. Whether it’s a window box, vegetable crop, fruit orchard, vineyard, a designed “outdoor room,” or simply a patch of tenacious weeds, a garden is the critical demarcation between what is wild and what is cultivated. When we garden—weeding, preparing the soil, planting, watering, tending, harvesting—we place ourselves at the edge, between what is wild and what is cultivated. Crossing the garden’s threshold, we enter into a direct relationship with nature and with ourselves. This is a relationship that must be recognized and consciously and compassionately entered. It requires that we garden with a heartfelt mindfulness.

This book offers simple short verses, called gathas, to guide our gardening and assist us in becoming present. Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh says that reciting a gatha “helps us to dwell in the present moment and to be deeply aware of the action we are doing so that we can perform it with understanding and love.” Each gatha waters the seeds of mindfulness within us, softening and cultivating the ground of our ability to be present.

Each gatha offered is designed to be practiced in alignment with the breath. First, read the whole gatha, then, consider inhaling as you recite one line to yourself and exhale as you recite the next. So the first line would be in sync with your inhale, the second with your exhale, the third with your inhale, and the fourth with your exhale.

Practicing in this way, each four line gatha becomes a gateway to a moment of mindfulness. What is mindfulness? Mindfulness is the awareness of what is around us and within us in the present moment. Looking deeply, and being with what is, frees us from getting caught in the past or the future. When we garden, the details of nature call to life all of our senses grounding us in the present moment. While weeding, for example, we use our sight to discern the beautiful glistening leaves of the native, noninvasive Redwood sorrel (Oxalis oregana) from the flat, green, stippled leaves of the invasive sour grass (Oxalis pes-caprae L.). We use our sense of taste as we nibble on a basil leaf or bite into a freshly picked, sun-warmed peach. We feel nature’s touch as we are gently brushed by the summer’s refreshing breeze upon our skin, cooling the perspiration of our labors of love in the garden. Attuned to our breath, we can smell the arrival of the seasons upon the wind. As we see, hear, smell, taste, and feel nature’s details, we become more present, and compassion and love grow within us. Gardening mindfully—being present with our shovels, our steps, and our gathas—we invite the mind to drop into the heart, and the tangle of our thoughts is loosened.