Novelist Virginia Woolf famously wrote, “A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.’’ Some women have written fiction in the absence of one or both of those two conditions, but their presence makes it easier.
I have always thought that a garden is the ultimate “room of one’s own” for those who love horticulture. It is a haven for creativity, a place where individual gardeners can make their own rules—and then break them with impunity—and a refuge from the numerous obligations that society places on all of us.
It pays to remember that in spring, when many gardeners face an annual dilemma. The garden is bursting with energy, having been revitalized over the winter. Unfortunately work, family and social obligations sometimes force us to ignore all that energy and expend precious sunny days stuck in meetings, stuck in traffic or stuck indoors finishing up the taxes. It is maddening enough to make you grind your teeth—something that would not happen if you could only get a few minutes in the garden.
Every one of us wants to “have it all”, but to “have it all”, you generally have to redefine what “all” means. If gardening gives you joy, you need to make time for that joy. Have it all in the garden by giving up something elsewhere. Minimize tedious household chores, limit gratuitous social obligations and find some way to tame your other responsibilities. Above all, don’t waste time on negative people and ideas. Tending your life effectively makes it much easier to tend your garden.
“All” does not mean perfection, either inside or outside the garden. My horticultural education has taught me how to create every kind of effect with plants and how to tailor gardens to fit every situation. But in order to make a garden that works for me, I have had to acknowledge my essential nature. I am a plant collector and I will always find room for an interesting specimen, even if that specimen disrupts some part of my garden design. It is easier to rearrange plants than to rearrange my psyche.
Some people take great pleasure in drawing up detailed garden plans, either by hand or—more often these days—on a computer. I like to design a garden on the ground. Why? Because the earth beneath my feet speaks to me in a way that apps, software programs and graph paper do not. The existing plants, topography and history of a place tell me everything I need to know about how to build a planting scheme and position specific elements. The end result may not always look logical to others, but it makes sense to me and results in a garden that soothes my soul instead of making me crazy.
Classical philosophy espouses the idea of the “genius of the place” or genius loci, which means the overriding spirit of a specific location. This sentiment was amplified by eighteenth century poet Alexander Pope and helped define the English landscape gardening movement. When I work in my garden and attempt changes, I consult the genius of the place, even if the place is a stretch of blacktop and the garden “bed” consists of a collection of plant-filled containers.
With the genius of the place firmly fixed in my consciousness, I make the choices that affirm that genius. Should I make one garden area absolutely perfect, or try to create a gorgeous whole? Of course, I really want to do both, but if the available time on a given day adds up to 45 minutes and the next few days don’t promise much more, I have to decide. Often I choose the single area, because it is easier to accomplish and gives immediate satisfaction. Trying to do too much in too little time would only frustrate me and not contribute at all to the curb appeal of my house.
I know that some day, when I reach retirement, I will be able to put in full days in my garden both the days and the garden will be glorious. However, putting off something so joyful for an indeterminate future date ignores the fact that the only thing any of us have with any certainty is today. In spring, as the sap rises in trees and human beings, find something non-essential to put aside and get your hands in the earth. The other work will get done and the garden will work its magic on you.