It’s the Little Things

Finding joy in the imperfect

Arguably the best part

I don’t grow as much food in my garden as I could.

As a therapeutic gardening educator that used to feel shocking to me.

My garden is not perfect? I don’t supply my small household with most of our veggie intake?? How very dare I?!
I should grow more, I should use my tiny space better. Afterall, I do know how to do it.
Asses the site, prepare the soil, learn the conditions, get good seeds and seedlings, mulch, feed, water, care, save seed, you know. All the right stuff.

And yet.

I’ve written before about this ‘should’ situation and often discuss it with my groups.
It’s a painful concept, often filled with shame, guilt and feelings of inadequacy. And most of all, it’s a thief of joy!
’Should’ and the sense of failure that rides along with it, are terrible robbers of simple pleasures. Small significant acts that we wish to, and choose to do for ourselves can easily collapse under its weight.

Sometimes, when the spirit strikes and the audience is already captured, I get up on my soapbox and talk about capitalism and failing systems that narrowed our views of life and it’s course, locked us into unfair contracts with the threat of imminent demise if we dare to step off the heavily trodden path.
(Ehm. Sorry. I’ll dismount).

But most of the time, I focus on small, achievable goals and listening a little more closely to what we actually want, need, and have capacity for. Acts that rather than thieving it, add joy into our lives.

My tiny space has grown and changed over the four years I’ve been here. And when I’m lucky -and quiet - I get to see it. To recognise the changes I’ve made in my own particular way. A once bare concrete courtyard now holds a great big Callistemon, a lemon tree (oh, the fruits are so close to ripening) several perennial shrubs for tea and cosmetic infusions, herbs that self-seed, random cuttings collected on evening walks now striking roots in pots, a thriving worm farm and an ever changing compost pile.

There’s a lot happening there. Even annuals that supplement my cooking!

And I did that. I found a way to make this space mine- enjoyable, beneficial to my home and the environment, and manageable in a way that doesn’t suck energy out of my mostly depleted batteries.

Little garden gifts

Today I ate a small, very delicious salad from my garden. One yellow zucchini, a couple of different tomatoes, a purple onion and some radish seed pods (please start eating those! They’re ridiculously good) mint, rocket and oregano. Lemon, salt and olive oil . That’s it.

While picking and preparing that simple lunch, I reminded myself that this is about joy.

The voices of “only one zucchini out of this whole plant?” Were there. Of course they were.
But I told them to kindly f#ck off and let me enjoy the process. To leave me be and make space for the joy of small things.

What little joyful moments do you get to enjoy without the buzzing of ‘should’?