Many are the activities on my ‘really-good-intentions-but-no-action” list. After recently helping a local nonprofit build raised garden beds, I looked upon the ‘take up gardening’ item on that list, and said to myself It’s time.
(Celebrating the successful completion of raised garden beds at Brookwood in Georgetown - and also hearing the ‘It’s time’ voice within)
So, a few weeks later at the tail end of an exhaustingly hot May in Central Texas I drove to our local nursery, found the manager, and declared, “I want to start a garden bed.”
I should have probably stopped there and let her begin asking questions. Instead, I babbled forth the fullness of my ignorance:
“I confess I really do not know what I am doing. Are there maybe a couple ideal vegetables or herbs that I could start with that generally do ok in this area?”
I was looking for something so doggedly persistent that once planted it was going to break ground in some form or another no matter how badly I messed up. Like weeds.
“Is there a vegetable that grows as reliably as weeds? And maybe even as quickly?”
I didn’t say that aloud, but only because I didn’t think to say it in the moment. It really was what I meant.
“So…” she spoke slowly. I could see she was trying to be delicate. I stood there like a tender shoot just breaking ground into the brave new world of gardening, and she was wisely treating the new growth, well, like a gardener should.
“It’s getting pretty hot. Anything planted now is likely not to grow.”
“I mean,” she added in case I felt particularly hellbent on just going for an overnight(ish) miracle. “You can try. But unless the heat gives way for a good bit, nothing is going to grow. You should wait to plant in September.”
“Instead,” she went on. “you should get a nice mix of soil going.”
Soil?
Green thumbs, farmers, and anyone who has ever kept a potted plant alive for more than 24 hours are surely shaking their heads in stunned disbelief. But it’s true. I had given no thought to soil.
She led me over to a section of the nursery filled with row after row of soil options.
And then she began talking about soil preparation like one talks about cooking a meal.
“You’ll want some of this and some of that. A little water mixed with this one will be nice, and then a little of that there would really enrich your soil mix.” The key ingredients she pointed out included such things as plant compost and manure of a wide variety (chicken, horse, cow, sheep).
I left the nursery with no vegetables and no herbs. I did, however, return home with a variety of compost, manure and a little mulch.
Utterly uninspiring.
A notable smell.
And apparently the most essential ingredients for eventual, sustained, and healthy growth.
Want a fresh, homemade salad that you and your guests will never forget? Start with the soil. And continue to cultivate the soil.
Want fresh, soul-made gifts that you and those around you will never forget? Start with the soil. And continue to cultivate the soil.
How many are the ways we want to change something in ourselves, our organizations, or our society? And how often are we tempted to to grow full-fledged miracle vegetables in no time at all!
We…
buy a new outfit
or complete the latest certification
or update a policy
or post the latest position-declaring meme
…because those make clear the immediate, visible change.
There is simply something in all of us that finds the prospect of fast fruit ever-alluring.
But no matter how technologically advanced we get, no matter how fast we can purchase or policy-revise or declare change, the farmers will continue to hold the upper hand on the most foundational wisdom for ensuring real, sustained growth:
Start with soil. And never stop cultivating the soil.
Much can be said about what that might mean for our lives, but let’s name this for now: some of the richest soil of our lives is composed of the matter we think of as the garbage. The refuse. The stuff too pungent.
It’s the manure of pain and grief, failure and regret.
It’s the manure of longings too-long muted and hopes too-long deferred.
It’s the manure of our overwhelming confusions and challenges.
But what if some of the most enduring, satiating life is born precisely from such spaces? What if the next banquet in life is harvested from the ingredients we often stuff down, avoid, or regret?
After all, one tablespoon of soil contains more living organisms than there are people on the entire planet.
Soil is teeming with nutrients!
Of course, such knowledge does not necessarily make it easier to get our hands+hearts dirty. This, I think, is where a master gardener can really help.
If you can find the kind of gardener who knows how to be delicate with your fresh foray into real growth, the kind of gardener who can patiently listen and love as you sift the soil…
…then you’re well on your way to some real growth breaking ground.
And if you’ve been wondering throughout this whole post: “Bobby, what about water?! Water, too, is rather essential to garden-growth!”
Fear not. Fortunately, I knew about that one going in :)
And it’s been my experience that the grace of fresh rainfall seems ever-faithful to fall upon good, bad, and in-between soil alike.
Work the soil. The rains will find you.
Growing up on a farm and studying agriculture in College, I could easily relate! I can see how it relates to life's journey!!!
You truly are a gifted writer, Bobby! Another winner! It really spoke to my heart and soul. Thank you.