EXCERPT FROM

"THE GARDENER'S SPIRIT"

I loved reading The Gardener’s Spirit. There is a sort of peace I experience when working in my garden and Theresa Markham’s writing captures that sense so beautifully.

It’s the end of December now. It’s cold and dreary, but Theresa has me thinking about spring, planting new seedlings, feeling the warmth of the sun . . . and loving every minute.

Paul

Experienced Gardener

PRE-ORDER NOW @ 20% OFF

Excerpt from

The Gardener’s Spirit

INTRODUCTION*

I have always loved playing in the dirt – the tactile nature of it, sifting it through fingers, funneling it through cupped hands. It helps me think without dwelling. So, I guess in technical terms that might mean that it helps my brain synapses work effortlessly and smoothly without getting stuck at a crossroads.

Fast forward 40+ years, and I began gardening – and discovered SOIL, not dirt. By then I had developed into an artistic math nerd, lawyer, and research hound, and was embarking on homeschooling my daughter who wanted more butterflies to chase.

Most sane people would have simply bought a butterfly bush, maybe a little purple echinacea, and called it a day. Not me. I needed to fix my sloping backyard, find better sun exposure, and research “How to Grow Soil.”

Ultimately, after the backyard butterfly project and a few community-garden raised beds with “Square Foot Gardening” (still my favorite book to recommend to new gardeners), I came to love growing soil more than growing tomatoes and cucumbers. Don’t get me wrong – I still want the toms and cukes. But what really gets me psyched is learning new ways to make the earthworms happy and the soil tilth darker, looser, and more sweetly aromatic.

And in the average rich but compacted, root-and-rock-bound soil of NJ, it is a challenge that I love embracing and solving – albeit slowly.

Which gets us to the reason for this book. I am an extremely cerebral person (both in my professional career and my hobbies) – so much so that without the help of my exceptionally extroverted husband of 25+ years, I would probably also be an absolute introvert living in a log cabin in the hinterlands of North Dakota with a dog for company. Now thanks to him, I’m just a moderate introvert.

Gardening balances my excessive cerebral activities by – literally – grounding me.

I improve when I garden. I didn’t realize this at first except that I somehow felt more energetic after digging and kneeling and struggling with the earth for 3 hours. Instead, I came to learn of its impact on me from my family and friends who kept telling me that I looked so much better and happier since I had been gardening.

It is not that I was unhappy. But one acquires a furrowed brow and constant serious expression simply from the action of endlessly thinking and reading and number-crunching. I enjoy those things. But gardening is not just enjoyable – it puts me in a State of Joy.

Perhaps the State of Joy can simply be attributed to the direct interaction with the electrical, chemical, and biological aspects of the earth. But I think it is more than that.

I was lacking Balance. Much like someone who is always on the road needs some immobile home time, or a performer needs some quiet time – I needed to exit the space between my two ears and spend time physically engaged with the earth, moving soil by hand, one inch at a time.

(That is not to say that I don’t use my brain cells for gardening – I do. Just ask my husband how many hours of riveting earthworm research dialogue he has been subjected to.)

When I gardened, I grew. I had personal “aha moments.” I saw analogies between gardening and life. Its challenges, learning opportunities, and routines. I started writing about it.

I am not positive, but I think other gardeners might also experience this. My hope is that we can use the daily thoughts in this book as a launching point (and as much a source of humor as a math nerd/retired attorney can provide) to make notes about our own personal insights and transformations.

Wishing you many happy earthworms and gorgeous, sweet-smelling soil,

Theresa

*Full Disclosure (although I am retired from the Rolls of the NJ Bar for over a decade, terms like Full Disclosure may never fully leave my vocabulary, so I thank you in advance for your patience – notice though, that I did however manage to allow myself the horror of leaving a few prepositions dangling): I almost never read the Introduction to books. I occasionally read them after I have read the book and want to learn more about the author and/or subject matter. So, if you choose to skip this Introduction, I completely understand.