Dive into the Dream—make garden planning a celebration

As you’ve hear me mention, this year, I’m sharing all the little things throughout each season that has truly brought nourishment to my soul. Throughout the first half of my gardening journey (a good sum 15 years worth), the period between when the season ended and the next began used to feel excruciating long. Maine winters are notoriously cold and long, and my bleak outlook upon how long it would be before I’d be back out in the garden would bring on this bit of fret and impatience. Now, I’m practically begging January to slow down a bit. 

The reason being is because I changed my outlook and approach to these barren, frigid months. Rather than drudge through just waiting until I could finally sow that first seed, I now celebrate the slowness of the season, diving deep into the dream of what this season could bring. My favorite way to do this is in my garden planning. I tossed aside the graph paper and any rigidness, and grab some paintbrushes, paper and some watercolors. With the first blob of color on the page, I began to dream in possibilities, wishes and hopes. While outside my window, the world is blanketed in snow, here, on my dining room table, by the wood stove, I swim in vivid color, brightness and a vibrancy that the ol’ soul needs come this time of year. 

I choose to dream up my garden plans in water colors, but you do you and work with whatever medium you enjoy. The main goal is to be able to plot out the colors your garden will have, and that alone will brighten your day. And if you do choose to go the watercolor route, please know that no artistic ability is needed to join in. I was an Art major way back when, and while that may sound like a plus, I painted dozens of garden plans where I started, didn’t perfect to my artistic temperament and then tossed into the wood stove because I keep getting lost in detailed minutia. My favorite plan I ever painted was just an easy blobbing of circles of colors everywhere with the names of the plants scribbled on top of each blob. 

There’s a quick tidbit that seems fitting here to keep in mind that I once read, paraphrasing here, but it basically said that the problem many of us here in America have with our hobbies, is that we feel the need to perfect/master them, or we deem ourselves failures at it. When the whole point of the hobby is to relish the enjoy in the mere act of doing it…not the end result. That absolutely applies to gardening…the true joy of gardening isn’t in the harvest, but in the journey.

So I continue to ground myself in that thought every day and it really does make an impact. It brings me back to the main tenant of nourishment that has helped me, especially in the face of grieving, mindfulness. Simply being fully in the present moment. While it sounds so simple, how often are we…I mean truly focused in the moment? It takes a lot of work and constant bringing your mind back, but when you let yourself be fully present in the moment at hand, it really can transform even the most mundane tasks and make them a bit deeper, soul-filling. I’ll chat about this more, but I can say, with this attitude, I actually do not mind doing dishes anymore….in fact, it’s become one of the most peaceful points in the day (though tell no one in my house I uttered this).

I’ll jot up a part two of this garden planning how-to, but a big thing to take away is that even though I laboriously jot up elaborate, well-thought out plans, I toss them all aside come that first gorgeous spring day and run amok with my seeds through the garden. And while that may sound a little mad, there’s actually a great deal of seeped in knowledge that while you think you’re going free range, you’re actually executing on all those months of garden dreaming. In other words, relish dreaming the plan, and don’t worry so much about executing to it.