Livin' on Garden Time

People sometimes ask me if gardening is relaxing.

I usually laugh and laugh.

Because there are plenty of days when gardening feels anything but relaxing.

There are weeds to pull.

Tomatoes that need tying.

Aphids that have apparently invited all their friends over for dinner.

Something always needs watering.

Something else is always trying to die.

And every now and then, a goat escapes just to keep things interesting.

But then something happens.

Somewhere between filling a watering can and deadheading flowers, I stop thinking about tomorrow's to-do list, the laundry still piled on the bed in the spare bedroom, or the email I forgot to answer.

Without really noticing, my world gets smaller.

Not in a bad way.

Just smaller.

Instead of thinking about everything, I'm thinking about one tomato plant.

One zinnia.

One row of carrots.

One handful of weeds.

The garden has a funny way of insisting that I slow down.

Not because it asks me to.

Because it simply refuses to be hurried.

You can't make tomatoes ripen faster because you're impatient.

You can't convince lettuce to germinate because you're on a schedule.

Flowers don't bloom because your calendar says they're supposed to.

The garden keeps its own time.

And eventually...

You learn to keep it too.

I've started to think that's one of the greatest gifts gardening has to offer.

Not vegetables, or greens, or even flowers.

It's perspective.

The reminder that some of the best things in life simply can't be rushed.

Friendships.

Children.

Healing.

Learning.

Growing.

Trust.

Love.

Tomatoes.

They all take about as long as they take.

Maybe that's why I feel better after I've spent an hour outside, even if all I accomplished was pulling weeds.

The weeds don't care about deadlines.

The bees don't know what day it is.

The sun still rises whether my to-do list is finished or not.

The garden quietly reminds me that the world gets along just fine without my constant supervision.

And honestly...

That's kind of a relief.

So if you ever find yourself overwhelmed, try stepping outside.

Not because gardening is magical.

Not because it solves all your problems.

But because, for an hour or so, you'll get to borrow the garden's sense of time.

And sometimes...

That's enough.