Finding one’s roots in gardening

It is the close of another day in the garden. South Africa’s summer sun can be scorching, but at least last night’s thunderstorm softened the soil for my labour. Nonetheless, the work was demanding, and my burnt skin and aching muscles moan in relief as I sink them into a tub of warm water. Resting with my ears below the surface, I relax as the world beyond is silenced, and in this solitude, I am free with my thoughts. An adage from Epictetus comes to mind: 

I want to take a bath and ensure at the same time that my choice [prohairesis] remains in harmony with nature. - Encheiridion, 4. 

Caught between the clamour of our daily grind and the complacency it can cultivate, our lives become discordant. The garden is where I go when I need to find some rootedness.

Inner harmony over external ‘disharmony’

The morning began with a cup of coffee as I scouted the terrain, plotting my plan of attack. The garden was a mess; it had been for some time. Clashing responsibilities and time’s unforgiving flow mean I cannot always give my yard the attention it deserves. The lawn was overgrown, weeds had erupted throughout, and pockets of windborne trash infested the corners. The neighbours must think me idle, my home a blemish on their street, but their opinions do not concern me. It is better that I be dissonant with them than out of harmony with myself (Plato, Gorgias, 482b-c). But that means that I must be honest about the circumstances I find myself in. Yes, I must be merciful with myself for my shortcomings, but I must also recognise my culpability. This is my home, my heart, my refuge, and I must care for it.

Seeing garden as manifestation of self

My garden is the manifestation of who I am, and it is in the soil that I see my soul reflected. In its verdant chaos, I saw my anger, anxiety, and frustration in need of taming. Clearing the weeds and litter, I was cleansed of those erroneous thoughts that fuel resentment. Trimming the lawn and shrubs, I tempered those vulgar desires that feed indecency. With every swing of the pickaxe or shovel, I broke apart the clay of complacency, reinforcing that nothing can prevent me from keeping my choice in harmony with nature – of which I am a part! (Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, 2.9). 

With the earth prepared, seeds were sown and nourished by my sweat, and I have hope for their future fruit. Where before there was an apparent wilderness, now I see a premonition of the garden’s beauty.
Home is where the heart is. It is the private realm of rejuvenation where we can find respite from the busyness of life’s affairs. It is a place you can retreat to re-establish harmony with the world and within yourself. You are a part of the world. To be in harmony with it, you must be balanced in your heart. Yet, such inner balance is only achieved through concord with nature. The demands are reciprocal. I cannot fool myself that I am well when my home is in disarray, but neither can I rectify my environment without reconciling my personal disorder. They are symptoms of the same malady. I know I will be out in the garden next weekend, once again wrestling with myself and the land. 

Ongoing vigilance

Fresh weeds and new frustrations will always emerge as things take their natural course, and I will have to remain vigilant if I wish to avoid being overwhelmed. Each day brings challenges, but I will enjoy my bath this evening.

Marc is an aspiring philosopher and artist with an affinity for classically-informed virtue ethics, whose dream is to one day have a big garden and even bigger library. He works as an academic literacy consultant at the University of the Free State in South Africa, where he is busy completing a doctorate in philosophy.

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