2020 has been more about the garden for me, which means not as much writing!  I was a bit guilty about it at first then a friend said to me, ‘you know your garden time is okay Annie because there are different ways to express, create and release, this year it’s the garden, and the garden has been your saviour.’

Although looking at me, with the scratches, bumps, and grazes I’ve sustained from moving around rocks, wood chips, lifting fence palings, tripping on pavers, planting trees, uprooting trees, trimming, etc, you may not agree about the ‘saviour’ bit. Thank goodness for Correct X. I use this for my skin cuts etc. I’ll have it on the website for more information.

I find the garden very satisfying, despite the injuries! I was always a bit ‘gun-ho‘ as a little girl growing up. I would dive right in and give my dad a hand moving around garden waste, helping him create a bluestone wall in the back yard, while my more studios brothers were inside studying.

Playing in the garden, being in the garden is my happy place.  As a little girl, I built huts in the back yard from materials I would scavenge on my hikes and bike rides around the neighbourhood. My huts would often blow down with a substantial storm and winds, clearly, I would never be an engineer, but I didn’t care, I re-built them and loved my time outside more than anything.  It was a world I could disappear to and forget the troubles of the bigger world.  The garden was and still is, my saviour!  

‘All the troubles in life can be solved with a garden’.  Someone said that, at some time, now I’m saying it!  Why?  Because I’m feeling it, living it, and experiencing all the benefits of being outside with nature.  There are things going on in the world, that makes me cringe, things that bring despair and angst if I focus on it long enough.  I can’t change the greater world, however, I can contribute and change my environment, so that gives me some sense of control that I’m making a positive contribution, that’s probably why the garden is such a valuable healing tool.

When you are engaged with planting a seedling you are reinvesting in the soil around the seedling, the watering, the fertilizing, taking care with shade or sun exposure, and then watching your plant grow and form into something that will either give life because it is a food source or a beautiful flower which provides a ‘stage show’ of joy just to appreciate

  All the troubles of the world, of life, can be fixed if we just spent some time or more time in the garden. Growing food instead of purchasing plastic;  Nurturing trees instead of trolling online; Harvesting nutritious food instead of buying vegetables, meat, etc, wrapped in more plastic.  Spending time in a garden, getting what Darryl and I call, ‘Farm-Fit’.  For us being ‘Farm-Fit’ is far more useful than wasting time and money in a sterile air-conditioned gym.

Lifting boulders, rocks, logs, and pushing wheelbarrows takes a lot of fitness, a more purposeful form of fitness for me because there is method and practical benefits with what I’m doing, working towards a favourable result, a garden bed, or a border, a mound, a new storage area for garden waste, logs, a grassed area, and the list goes on.

2020 has been a year of restrictions, of suspicious news, elections, winners, losers, gains, loses, people fewer funerals, weddings, and christenings.  2020 will go down in history as the year people questioned everything, queued up for testing, changed their minds, turned away from an issue, or were ‘the issue’.  2020 will be remembered as the year many people died alone, without their loved ones to comfort or be comforted.  2020 will always be the year of COVID-19, like it or not!

2020 is the year I took sanctuary in the garden, and I’m so grateful I could do that.  The upside to all this time in the garden is the healing, the peace, and the reflection that I believe will help me to be a better writer, better health practitioner, essential oil mentor, wife, mum and daughter!

There is so much written about the healing powers of a garden, I felt rather than repeat that I would share with you a poem I wrote many years ago about the garden in the suburbs of my childhood.

Poem – Dancing Flowers.

The Fuschias in the garden put colour into the arena,

each little bud and flower looked like a ballerina.

With swirls and bows and all I allowed, my dancers performed to a garden crowd.

Sweet scents of boronia filled the air, bees and blowflies stuck to my hair.

Afternoons became my delight, alas each day had to finish with the night. 

Fuschias closed up, the beauty would hide, but really my flowers had just gently died!

 

 

Find a garden, make a garden, and feel the healing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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