As this
week is Mental Health Awareness week, it is worth reflecting again on the
mental health benefits of gardening. These
are now well-recognised. Gardening stops
us moping around the house and the physical activity generates positive hormones
such as serotonin. Apparently there are
even natural
antidepressants in the soil that can help to reduce stress. But there are other reasons why gardening can
help us feel better about ourselves. Here I focus on three that have particular resonance
for me.
The need to nurture
As Sarah
Rayner writes, ‘we are all nurturers’ and gardens give us the opportunity
to nurture and care for nature – be it plants or wildlife. Not having children, I sometimes think this
is one of the most therapeutic aspects of gardening for me. And there is immense satisfaction to be had
from the responsiveness of the natural environment. By creating the right environment (or putting
the ‘right plant in the right place’) we are rewarded with colours and scents,
season by season. There is nothing more
satisfying than planting a seed and nurturing it to become a seedling, then a plant,
then a cluster of cucumbers, eaten when freshly cut.
We put out bird feeders and water, we plant bee-friendly plants, and we are rewarded by a constant stream of wildlife activity. Foxes visit too, and we enjoy their visits as much as anything – although our neighbours tend to treat them as pests and block holes in their fences. That’s a shame as, with a wider vision, we could contribute to a much greater transformative effect, creating wildlife corridors and localised ecosystems through interconnected gardens. Following the highly depressing political events of 2016, I feel it is more important than ever that people take care of their own local environment and where better to start than your own back yard (or balcony or windowsill ...)?
We put out bird feeders and water, we plant bee-friendly plants, and we are rewarded by a constant stream of wildlife activity. Foxes visit too, and we enjoy their visits as much as anything – although our neighbours tend to treat them as pests and block holes in their fences. That’s a shame as, with a wider vision, we could contribute to a much greater transformative effect, creating wildlife corridors and localised ecosystems through interconnected gardens. Following the highly depressing political events of 2016, I feel it is more important than ever that people take care of their own local environment and where better to start than your own back yard (or balcony or windowsill ...)?
Sharing and connecting
The
organisation Thrive
promotes the value of gardening for people with mental health problems,
emphasising among other things the ability of gardening to connect people and
improve communication, reducing feelings of isolation. The social benefits of group gardening have
also been recognized for those in mental
health units and prisons, as it focuses attention away from insularity and
more towards collective problem-solving and collaboration. From my perspective, I have always valued
connections with other people through gardening.
Today would have been the 80th birthday of my mother who sadly passed away this February. I used to love talking to her about gardening and regularly used to get advice on what to plant, what to do with bulbs and when to bring plants indoors for the winter. She had an encyclopaedic knowledge of plant names. I miss her terribly, but I am also glad that one of the gifts she has left me with is my interest in gardening, and my ability now to pass on some of that knowledge (including to Dad who is also a keen gardener, but occasionally misses her guidance …).
Recently a dear friend of mine came to visit and we spent a good while going round the garden looking at plants and talking about how they were doing. I found that simple sharing experience immensely enjoyable. And one of the simplest and best pleasures my husband and I share is to sit in the garden watching chaffinches and blue tits (and parakeets …) on the bird feeder, or the squirrels chasing each other through the branches of the fig tree, or listening to the swifts of a summer evening with a glass of wine.
Today would have been the 80th birthday of my mother who sadly passed away this February. I used to love talking to her about gardening and regularly used to get advice on what to plant, what to do with bulbs and when to bring plants indoors for the winter. She had an encyclopaedic knowledge of plant names. I miss her terribly, but I am also glad that one of the gifts she has left me with is my interest in gardening, and my ability now to pass on some of that knowledge (including to Dad who is also a keen gardener, but occasionally misses her guidance …).
Recently a dear friend of mine came to visit and we spent a good while going round the garden looking at plants and talking about how they were doing. I found that simple sharing experience immensely enjoyable. And one of the simplest and best pleasures my husband and I share is to sit in the garden watching chaffinches and blue tits (and parakeets …) on the bird feeder, or the squirrels chasing each other through the branches of the fig tree, or listening to the swifts of a summer evening with a glass of wine.
Getting away from it all
At the same
time gardening is also a great way to get away from everything. I find the best antidote to work is to potter
around the garden, doing a bit of weeding or watering, tying in new shoots of
climbing plants, planting vegetables and watching them grow, planning how to
fill spaces and thinking about whether to move something or leave it where it is. Gardening is a wonderfully distracting
activity that - without effort - generates great concentration and focus, and
therefore dispels any other worries and concerns. It provides its own structure, demanding care
and thought throughout the seasons, and as such it is challenging and reassuring
at the same time.
The gentle imperative of gardening even unlocks writer’s block. In fact one of the great advantages of working from home is that I can and do just ‘pop out’ when I’m struggling to find inspiration by my computer. A garden allows for those moments when we can be still and we can see, smell and listen to what is around us – to truly live in the moment. Often the mere sight of a flower newly opened out, or a bee busily gathering pollen, or a fox peacefully sleeping in a patch of sun on the lawn, can be enough to lift the spirits. It’s about living in the present and understanding that you are not the centre of the universe; that the paper you are writing is not going to change the world (unfortunately); but that you can be at one with nature and that is really all that matters.
The gentle imperative of gardening even unlocks writer’s block. In fact one of the great advantages of working from home is that I can and do just ‘pop out’ when I’m struggling to find inspiration by my computer. A garden allows for those moments when we can be still and we can see, smell and listen to what is around us – to truly live in the moment. Often the mere sight of a flower newly opened out, or a bee busily gathering pollen, or a fox peacefully sleeping in a patch of sun on the lawn, can be enough to lift the spirits. It’s about living in the present and understanding that you are not the centre of the universe; that the paper you are writing is not going to change the world (unfortunately); but that you can be at one with nature and that is really all that matters.
