Finding Peace and Hope in the Garden
The news this week has been heavy, as it has for a while. The news of the shooting at an elementary school in Texas brought up so many familiar emotions.
10 years ago, as I packed up my college apartment, I watched the news unfold about the shooting at Sandy Hook. I'll never forget the way that felt. I had just finished my journalism degree about to walk across a stage and get my diploma, and I felt enraged. I cried angry tears for the kids who would never get to do what I was about to because of senseless violence. I cried resentful tears for the legislators who cherry picked freedoms for campaign funding. Most of all, I felt helpless, as a young adult, about to enter the world hoping to make it better for everyone who came up behind me.
In those 10 years, not much has changed in this world. I've lived in conservative states with even more conservative senators who send toothless form letters every time I leave a voicemail begging them to choose people over politics. But something struck me this week as I went into my garden to meditate, as I usually do when the world is bleak, seeking hope and a path forward.
The children growing up in the generation behind mine are doing so in a world that has more language around kindness and compassion than any other generation before it. Those children include my three nieces and two nephews, all of whom are learning this skill through gardening or animals. Those children include all of the kids I’ve met in our gardens these last few seasons. They show tenderness toward plants and seeds that rarely see in adults. This has given me hope for the children our government refuses to protect. It also shows me a way forward.
We can protect the children of this world with the words we say and actions we model. Those children are being raised by mothers and fathers who have begun to do this work, with access to therapy, they have started to learn the vocabulary around the bullying and trauma they experienced as children. Enough so that they can recognize the signs in their children and change the outcomes.
Even if it takes our lifetime to change this country's laws, we can feel empowered knowing that we can spread kindness and compassion every single day. Whether that's just saying "How are you?" and meaning it, or just actively listening to someone who needs to be heard.
If you're gardening this season, invite someone into your space to share it with you. You’d be surprised what conversations can happen by afternoon of pruning or harvesting. Or bring someone near you a bouquet of flowers or food you grew. You will never know the impact you can make with just a word or an action, but you could be saving a life.
My nephew harvests calendula in his grandmother’s kitchen garden in Illinois.
Progress is slow, but every action we take moves our culture forward. This week I’ve taken heart in a quote by Greek poet Dinos Christianopoulos, who said, "They tried to bury us, but they didn't know we were seeds.” I hope it brings you comfort and courage to take steps toward compassion and kindness for our Earth and all who dwell upon it.