(… or the pernicious case of “should” and “ought”)
“I’ve learned a lot from gardening”, “gardening has taught me a lot”
… not uncommon sentences to hear when talking to a fellow gardener. On the rare occasions that I hear that statement, part of my response (as well as so many other things), will reference the management of expectations. I have learned, often the hard way, that whilst getting excited at the multitude of possibilities I am presented with in the garden, it is not wise to try and reach out and trying to grab everything at once.
An early gardener “me” might have said … “Wow, I could build a greenhouse there, extend the vegetable patch, maybe a pond would be good, we could be self-sufficient within a year! I fancy a pergola there, think about it, we could watch the sun go down by the pond, wine/whisky in hand! Those trees will have to come out …”
The garden might have whispered knowingly … “Slow down David, there is no rush, you’re moving too fast, there is no urgency, … get to know me … enjoy the journey …”
Interestingly, I used the word “David” in the last quote without thinking. As if the garden was/is a mother figure … for it was only she that called me “David”.
Anyway, there are times when I wish I’d listened more closely. Don’t get me wrong, those moments, hours, days when your excitement is focused on the myriad possibilities that are poised on your gardening horizon are to be savoured. They are opportunities to relax, to smile, to develop both as gardener and human being. Indeed, there are many joys in exploring future possibilities. They give you permission to go on flights of fancy, to be whimsical, to free yourself from externally or internally imposed constraints and stressful events. In short, they allow you to experience a child-like excitement, an excitement free from guilt (one of the many powerful and incisive memories, for me, centred around my first week or so in our new house (see “buy me” in “Stories)).
By managing your excitement/expectations you are allowing yourself to “slow down”, to savour the process as opposed to hurtling towards the outcome. Imagine if you will, getting a new garden, going through a few excited days of planning, considering, discussing, going to bed on day 4, waking up, … and it’s all done! All your ideas have been realised; the garden is exactly as you envisaged only a few days earlier. I’m sure there are many of you who would whoop with joy at the mere possibility of this happening. I wonder though … how many times have we suffered as a result of mismanaging our expectations, of unwittingly adding the burden of expectation to our lives. It is at this point that what we might have “wanted to do”, mutates into what we “should” or “ought” to do.
There is, however, another side to that scenario. May Sarton (Belgian/American novelist/poet) wrote “Everything that slows us down and forces patience, everything that sets us back into the slow circles of nature, is a help. Gardening is an instrument of grace.” Powerful stuff! I have no qualms with the first sentence; indeed, I concur wholeheartedly, (the last sentence is flirting with spirituality and whilst I feel it’s worthy of exploration, that will have to wait for a further post).
Sometimes it’s better to stroll than it is to run …
So what might the benefits of slowing down be? At the very least one of the answers is written on the tin, as it were … slowing down … How often do we get the opportunity to exercise some control over the pace of our lives? As someone recently retired I have much more control over my time but there are still many days when I feel there simply aren’t enough hours in the day to do what I feel I need/want to do. Had I known about the benefits of slowing down, and the fact that a garden is almost tailor made for doing just that, I would have taken up gardening decades ago. Beverley Nichols, in his charming book (written in 1932) Down the Garden Path, wrote “… my impatient desire for immediate results, which is the besetting sin of all beginners, died down. I began to take a joy in the work for its own sake.” P3
I’ll state it again ….. sometimes it feels so much better to stroll as opposed to run.
A second benefit is that a conscious decision to slow down is a concrete example of taking control, of ceasing to bow to external pressures, and of gifting ourselves time. There is much focus at the present time on the benefits of “mindfulness”. Worry not, I’m not ging to preach, other than to extract one element of mindfulness that has relevance here … that of savouring. If you slow down, how might you use the gift of time that you have bestowed upon yourself?
With specific reference to the “processes” of gardening, one possibility is to attend to and appreciate the positives … taking time to recognise the work done to date (if you’ve already been at work). The clean lines of a lawn well-edged, the flowering of a newly created border, the crumbling, dark, feel of well-composted materials … more often than not, there will be some positives waiting to be discovered (or rediscovered). But it’s not just a focus on past achievements, it’s about being in the present, recognising that, whilst in the garden, you can, at least for a while, be free of some of the less desirable elements in your life … and it’s not just about being in the present, it’s about the future, about anticipating (I refer you to my earlier consideration of flights of fancy etc). What might my garden become? What are the multitude of possibilities that could become reality?
That pause you may afford yourself, to explore past present and future positives may not come easy to many of you. It is in many ways a skill, and I recognise that it’s easy for me to sit here, having practised these skills for some years, to seem somewhat patronising. That is not my intention. As an applied sport psychologist, working with elite athletes who were embedded in high pressure environments over many years, helping them develop these skills was part of my day-to-day work.
If the idea of “savouring” spikes an interest, then there are many on-line sources of useful information that you may find interesting.
Another benefit of incorporating patience into your gardening process lies in the possibility of better and more creative decision making. Consider for a moment, your responses to the following question: What happens at those times when you may have “acted on impulse” in terms of your gardening experiences? Here’s another question: Have you ever got “carried away” in relation to gardening decisions? I confess to having both acted on impulse and getting carried away! Whilst there were no major problematic consequences to these occurrences for me, there were some financial and time implications, in terms of paying to address the “mistakes” and the time taken to reverse or alter them. Being patient, slowing down, giving each idea a chance to breathe, to try to assert itself, to stand the test of time in relation to other competing (and equally exciting) ideas that might come to mind, can lead us to higher quality decision making, and in making more well-considered decisions, we can learn to trust the decisions we make as well as stimulate our gardening creativity.
When the fabulist Jean de la Fontaine wrote “Patience and time do more than strength or passion” he had a point! … don’t you just love the word “fabulist”? I hadn’t come across it but it refers to one who writes fables, and by the way, he has a rose named after him.
Now, there is a caveat to what I’ve written so far. Clearly, there are occasions when things need to be done, deadlines to be met, goals to be achieved etc. In those situations it might not be unreasonable to experience a sense of urgency where things must, ought, or should be attended to. My approach in this reflection has been to focus those times where one can exercise a degree of choice, where there is no “urgency” (despite what your habitual behaviour might be telling you!). At those times, listen to your garden, it’s talking to you.
I’ll leave this reflection with a quote from the great Gertrude Jekyll, who recognised the dynamic, reciprocal relationship that individuals have with their gardens when she wrote “a garden is a grand teacher. It teaches patience and careful watchfulness; it teaches industry and thrift; above all it teaches entire trust”.