Six Messages from a Wild Garden

Message 4: Soil - What sort of soil am I being right now?

Rob preparing the soil for a new garden bed at Evergreen.

When I spend time in my garden on the south coast of Western Australia, it tells me about six things that start with the letter ‘S’.

Seeds. Seasons. Sunshine. Soil. Suffering. Sweetness.

Today I want to share my garden’s message about Soil.

Soil

I grew up in soil.

I’m not referring to the sort of soil at Evergreen that enables trees, shrubs, flowers and vegetables to grow, but to the soil of the family I grew up in.

Just like there are all sorts of garden soils, there are all sorts of family soils.

Garden soil is a combination of things like sand, organic matter, worms, microbes, water and air. Depending on the quality of the garden soil, it can either encourage or extinguish what grows in it.

In a similar way, family soil is a combination of things like setting, income, history, education, possessions, culture and beliefs. Depending on the quality of the family soil, it can nurture or neglect – to varying degrees – the people who grow up in it.

There are endless varieties of family soil. No two are the same, although Tolstoy began his novel Anna Karenina with the now famous line:

All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.

When we’re young we’re not aware of the soil of our family. Our tender roots just stretch down into whatever it is, to hold us firm as we equally reach up to the light of possibilities.

But as we mature we begin to see that our family soil isn’t perfect. It has flaws, fissures, faults.

Parents don’t always know what is best. Siblings can be annoying. Maybe there’s not enough love expressed, too much tension, never enough money, layers of hypocrisy, unnecessary confusion, unwelcome advice, pointless strictures. Or whatever.

We can all list things that were wrong in the soil of the family we grew up in because there is no such thing as a perfect family.

Families are all imperfect in their own way.

Once we accept this, we can move on.

What Sort of Soil Am I Being Right Now?

I no longer fret about the soil I grew up in. That’s done and dusted.

Instead, I am increasingly aware of the soil I am being for all the seeds (people big and little) who are falling within the patch of soil that is me, right now.

Three varieties of lettuce, and kale and spinach seedlings in Evergreen soil.

 With love, Marlane