Gardens are therapeutic for many of us. Planning a garden brings us the joy of poring over catalogs in the winter months, preparing our soil, selecting our plants, talking to others about our projects and inspiring one another, planting, watering, feeding, weeding and harvesting.

It is a full time relationship that demands that we think and care about something other than ourselves. We make conscious decisions about what’s best for cooking, what colors bring joy and harmony to our lives, how a specific plant will attract a bird, a bee, or a butterfly. Some of us are linked to the past with our gardens: the fragrant lilac that bloomed each spring in our grandmother’s yard or the delicious red tomatoes that our mothers and fathers grew. The fragrances, textures, and flavors of the past link us to today.

We enrich our lives in our gardens, bringing old memories forth and creating new memories to cherish. This year my grandchildren visited from Georgia and we picked strawberries for the first time together. Gardens change how we see the world and how we see ourselves.

For millennia gardens have been healing environments. Rituals around flowers and fragrances have always been a part of our lives as human beings. The Neanderthals buried their dead with offerings of flowers. The Old Testament tells us about the Garden of Eden, Solomon’s garden, and the gardens of the pharaohs. Nebuchadnezzar created the hanging gardens of Babylon to cheer his lonely and homesick young wife. It is said that Buddha attained enlightenment, Bodhi, under a sacred fig tree (Ficus religiosa). Some spiritual traditions emphasize deep connections to the natural world; to be ill is out of harmony with this world, and healing involves being brought back into harmony.

It is no surprise then, that the healing community – one that I am a part of – should consider gardens and gardening an important aspect of well being. Through my work I’ve become associated with the American Horticultural Therapy Association (www.ahta.org.) It is an organization that focuses very specifically on the role that gardening takes in the therapeutic process. Consider the examples offered here:

You awaken in the morning and feel the sadness of the loss in your life. You make a cup of coffee, and walk outside into the early summer air. The seeds you planted are starting to sprout, and as the small green shoots poke through the soil you are reminded that new beginnings are as much a part of life as are endings. Your breathing changes, becomes deeper and there is a subtle shift in your being. Things are hard for you right now, but looking at the new growth, seeing that despite the cold long winter, the small seed finds its way to the sunlight, grows, and becomes strong.

A survivor of sexual trauma learned to heal, in part, by nurturing plants. There were no immediate guaranteed results when she began this journey, but in the slow unfolding of her garden design she was hopeful that it would be beautiful and bring harmony to her life. She chose plants for their color and fragrance, and in doing so included many that attract hummingbirds and bees. In her enclosed garden she feels safe and happy. As she trims, prunes, weeds she feels a sense of control and ability to make decisions on her own behalf. As the months pass she begins to see the colorful yellow sunflowers emerge. She says blossoming means she is healing. She knows there is hope.

She was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease and was placed in a care home by her family. A lifelong gardener, she loved to take a slip of a plant from a friend, bring it home, and create the ideal conditions for it to flourish. In this manner all of her plants were also her friends. The enclosed garden space, laid out so that she can wander safely, allows her to follow curving paths through scented flowers and shrubs. It calms her. The family visits when possible. They are comforted in knowing that she is in a safe, familiar environment.

The surgery you had was difficult and the recovery will be long. Your entire life changed in a brief moment – you will never, ever be the same. A sense of panic and dread rises in your body as you begin to understand what has been taken away from you. The garden outside your window is fragrant and beautiful. The song of a bird calls your attention away from your worries and out into the garden. The sweet peas are blooming. The daylilies are gorgeous. The roses are on their second bloom. You know that it will be difficult in the days and months ahead, but you have hope, and you have your garden.

The time for your life to end is soon. You are on hospice; you have less than six months to live. You want to die at home, surrounded by your loved ones, your pets, and the things that are precious to you. Your friends and neighbors bring flowering plants, fragrant and beautiful. You are consoled, and despite the pain of the cancer you smell the perfume, you feel the soft petals, you know that you are loved.

As human beings we are complex entities, experiencing a myriad of emotions and thoughts – most of us doing our best to live in a way that has meaning. Let us understand that working with the earth is a gift to us.

This can be done on a small scale, in the form of a single cactus that survives with little attention, but offers a unique beauty. Maybe it is planting the red flowering currant (Ribes sanguineum) that signals to the hummingbird, as it migrates up the coast, that spring has arrived. Or maybe you want to grow your own food, start a cutting garden, or collect roses. Open your eyes to what is around you and participate in your own way in this universal process.

See you in the garden. I am harvesting my tomatoes and remembering those great yummy fruits from my childhood. The Red Pontiac and Yukon Gold potatoes that I have begun to dig up are so flavorful, I just steam them and roll them around in a pan with a little butter and chopped parsley as the way my mother once prepared them for our family.

A few years ago my neighbor Taslim gave me a chutney recipe from her mother. Using cilantro, mint, sea salt, jalapeno and lemon I can make a condiment that tastes good on almost anything. My garden brings me peace and links me with friends and loved ones, near and far away, newly made and those long gone.

The Point Roberts Garden Club Annual general meeting and social following will be held at a member’s home at 6:30 p.m. on August 5. For details and location please contact Carol Fuegi at 945-2338 or email fuegi@whidbey.com. 

If you are interested in gardening, please join us.  The club can be reached by email at info@pointrobertsgardenclub.org or calling 945-2338.  Regular monthly meetings are held at the Point Roberts community center on the first Wednesday of each month, with the exception of December and January.

Maureen is a master’s level counselor in private practice in Point Roberts, She is a member of the American Counseling Association and the American Horticultural Therapy Association.