Is this Rage Gardening…?
Yesterday was way too much.
If there are secateurs hanging in the holster in the first act
Life has been doing its thing lately. With extra oomph. And from my very small survey of loved ones, students, and program participants, it seems I’m not alone.
Conversations about staying steady and safe in the face of the endless information stream, the one that starts the moment we wake up, have been louder than usual.
This age of constant input can really take its toll.
I have the fortune of facilitating groups made up of people of various ages, abilities, gender identities and cultural backgrounds. Different histories. Different perspectives.
And yet a shared thread keeps appearing: overwhelm. The balancing act between the beauty of daily life and the weight of global and local events. Between what’s within our control and what very much isn’t.
Yesterday was just too much.
My already frayed nervous system simply could not absorb one more challenge. And challenged it was. At some point, mid-spiral, I remembered this practice I like to teach others. You know. Therapeutic gardening. The foundation of my entire business.
So I grabbed a pair of secateurs and stepped into the garden, in the rain, to give a very overgrown Tagetes lemmonii a little haircut.
It did not stay little.
Before I realised what was happening, it had turned into a full-blown 90s Alanis Morissette music video. Me, in the rain, with a sharp object, crying and aggressively pruning a shrub.
It wasn’t subtle. It wasn’t particularly graceful. But it was effective.
The carnage. It started with a little haircut…
It didn’t fix everything. But it helped.
There is something deeply regulating about focused physical action, about doing something tangible when so much feels abstract and uncontrollable (especially if we get to touch a plant or the ground while doing it).
The shrub now looks… dramatic. Definitely nothing like its lush former self. But I know it will return strong very soon. It always does after a hard prune. Plants are remarkably forgiving like that. They don’t take it personally.
As for my own overwhelm, I won’t unpack it all here… as much as I value openness, some things require a smaller room and a known audience. I’m fortunate to have people who are willing to listen and help. And I’m also grateful for the vicarious nature of facilitating groups centred on wellbeing and safe spaces.
As the responsible adult in the room, I don’t pour my heart out to participants. But I do bring the themes that are moving through me. And more often than not, whatever has been quietly plaguing my own cells is echoed in the room. Or the garden, rather.
Today I’m better. Not cured. Not dramatically transformed. Just steadier.
It seems rage gardening has been added to the toolkit.
How have you been navigating the noise lately? I’m always open to adding another steadying practice to the collection 🌱