Life Skills Learned from Gardening written by Daisy Martin
My first attempt at planting a garden didn’t look anything like the gardens on TV or my Pinterest page. It looked more like somebody launched a seed grenade behind my fence, shut the gate, and allowed the chaos of nature to do its handiwork.
Still, I soldiered on, subjecting my strawberries to shade, forcing my potatoes and tomatoes to live next to each other (just because plants’ names somewhat rhyme does not make them soul mates), and assuming my pumpkins and squash would play nicely with all the other vegetation and politely keep their vines to themselves.
Here’s the precious little that I knew beyond doubt: I could grow weeds like nobody’s business – I was a wild, weed-growin’ machine.
Do you know what it takes to grow a successful garden?
As with any venture in this life, a person can’t be afraid to fail and should not allow herself to be defined by her mistakes.
Take this to the bank: Failure shortens that learning curve right up. The real failure is in the giving up and the walking away – in believing the delusion that you’re just not good at something and you never will be.
Life is a garden!
8 Life Skills Learned from Gardening:
My gardens started to grow amazingly as did my crazy mad skills. Eventually they started to produce a bit of wisdom in me.
Gardening helps you to have faith and to see beyond. Even though you know you won’t see anything stick its head up out of the ground for several days, it won’t stop you from running out every morning and surveying the land.
Somewhere deep down you know what each seed will become, and you wouldn’t dare to miss the moment their faces touch the sunshine. You know in your knower something will be making an appearance soon.
Gardening boosts your confidence. Just one bite of fresh, organic produce on the tip of your tongue, and you’ll know you have conquered the world.
Once you get the hang of this, you won’t be able to keep it to yourself. You will be the queen (or king) of the culdesac going door to door with bags of lettuce and pounds of peas, making new friends along the way.
Gardening produces patience. No immediate gratification here, folks. You have to wait. If you pull fruit or veggies too soon, you will not receive the reward you seek. Lord knows that’s too much darn work to go to waste.
Gardening teaches you about commitment. You can’t take a vacation from your garden, that is unless you find a “babysitter” for it. Your garden depends on you, and that dependency teaches you the value of commitment and follow through.
Gardening instills in you self-reliance and independence. There’s something about being able to feed yourself, you know? And anybody can do it, it just takes a little time and experience.
Gardening makes you brave. All this gives you a sense of ownership and turns you into an overprotective force to be reckoned with. You will not go gentle into the night when the howling wind plucks you from sleep; you’ll race from your house to anchor galvanized pails over your new seedlings without so much as slipping on your slippers.
You will wage war on worms and battle bugs you’ve never heard of. You’ll stick the garden hose in one gopher hole and stand over the other with a white-knuckled vice grip on the Rodent Shovel of Death. You will be shocked at what you are willing to do.
Gardening gives you a sense of accomplishment and contentment. Six plastic salad bowls full of tomatoes will make you the happiest soul on the planet. Add a freezer full of berries, syrup- and jam-ready along with potato soup and spaghetti sauce? You’re good to go for the entire winter.
Gardening shows you how to let go. You won’t conquer every storm, every enemy. You won’t. Fruit will die on the vine, and you will anguish its loss in your heart. There will be hail. Don’t even get me started on the abomination that is hail.
Never again will you be out in the garden and think to yourself, What a sweet little butterfly. It’s not a butterfly. It’s a moth, and they lay eggs in your cabbage. They are the devil. You cannot beat them.
But at the end of each season, know that your garden will produce more than you can eat and more than you can put on the tables of your friends, and you will all be grateful for God’s provision and bounty. You will have given away more food and more blessings than you ever thought possible. You will be a vessel of abundance.
And your heart will be full.
I bet you have learned a thing or two about yourself from your gardening attempts (whether they were a success or failure!).