ONE WITH THE EARTH

Mahatma Gandhi: “To forget how to dig the earth and to tend the soil is to forget ourselves.”

I believe that deep inside us, there is a fundamental need to dig in the earth, and to bring forth sustenance and beauty from it. We have an innate desire to create a partnership with the earth we live on. If we turn our back on the earth and its bounty, we are, in essence, turning away from ourselves and our purpose.

There’s a grounding that occurs when we get our hands into the soil, giving us a sense of peace and purpose that is often missing in our daily lives. When I find myself stressed or out of sorts, it helps me to spend a few hours planting flowers or working on a flower bed. The earth, whether it’s sand, clay, or potting soil, pulls away tension, and replaces it with calm.

Science is just now catching up to what humans have instinctively known all along. Working in the soil improves our physical and mental health. Studies have shown that contact with the earth’s natural energy charge stabilizes the body and has measurable physiological effects ranging from improved energy and sleep patterns, reduced inflammation, to improved blood flow and relief from pain.

I come from a long line of farmers, gardeners, diggers in the soil. Some of my earliest memories involve family tending the soil. My granddad plowing rows in their backyard garden, then letting us grandkids help plant potatoes, corn, and beans. Granny on her knees, preparing a bed for petunias and zinnias. My brother and I picking up rocks and piling them into the little red wagon as my mother tried to tame a long-neglected garden spot.

Even my ancestors forced to live in cities found ways to satisfy the call of the soil, planting flower beds and growing vegetables in pots.

Over the years, I’ve tried my hand at growing vegetables, yielding more cucumbers and squash than I could give away. My neighbors started locking their car doors at church to keep from being gifted with more. But I prefer growing flowers, for the variety and beauty. And who has ever had too many roses?

There’s a feeling of accomplishment when we plant something that ultimately grows and thrives. But for me, it’s more than that. It’s a feeling of coming full circle, of doing something that people have done for thousands of years: plant, nurture, and harvest in partnership with the planet.

As I age, the connection I feel to the earth seems to grow stronger. I imagine the earth echoing my own aches and pains as we both become worn and tired. It provides me with a sense of kinship and well-being, knowing the earth continues to fulfill its purpose. And so must I. I just need to get my hands dirty first.