Why I Garden
A green lesson in wellbeing from a plant guy
Picture this: it’s 2018, and I stumble upon a cozy little house in the heart of San Luis Potosi, Mexico. It’s not some extravagant mansion, but hey, it’s got enough space for my two dogs and the two old cats that somehow ended up in my care after my parents’ divorce. Oh, and did I mention it’s just a hop, skip, and a jump away from Tangamanga Park? That’s right, the ultimate playground for nature lovers like me. It was like destiny had brought us together — the quirky house, my four-legged pals, and the promise of wild adventures right around the corner.
However, this house had a bit of a problem; it didn’t have a proper garden. The front yard had only a small patch of dirt serving as a parking spot, and the backyard was mostly concrete. Fortunately, this didn’t bother me much since my father’s farm was just half an hour away, and I could go there and plant stuff, so it was fine.
During 2018 and 2019, I planted petunias and a bougainvillea in the front yard; there was also a bush there (I don’t remember what it was, sorry). I also had my carnivorous plant collection, which spent the day on my front porch taking in the desert sun.
Meanwhile, at the farm, I had taken up beekeeping; I had three hives and a growing medical bill from the stings. To support the bees, I would grow a small lavender patch that smelled like heaven.
2020 hit me like a truck, though; I always was prone to depression, and being stuck inside was not going to help, so depression started setting in around April. I could feel it coming and decided to not let her get me.
In Mexico, there was no enforced lockdown, so you could actually make a normal life if you wanted, and so stores were open for business with precautions. I went to the Home Depot to buy some planks and PVC tubes, and I built myself a nice garden bed for my backyard.
It took me two days of hard work, I didn’t really know what I was doing, but I have to admit that the result was satisfactory. And then I took the PVC tubes, built an “irrigation system” of my own device, put it in, and… it never worked, the piece of junk.
In the raised bed, I planted a variety of things! I planted corn because what is a Mexican household without some “elotes”? I planted epazote because my mother told me I’d need it for cooking, and I did! Tomatoes are a must for any backyard garden, and zucchini because I LOOOOOVE zucchini bread.
In smaller planters, I did some experimenting with potatoes, lettuce and a strawberry plant that honestly went nowhere. And in the front yard, I planted two pumpkin plants, which went as well as you can imagine.
That is how my fight against depression during lockdown started. My therapist (a modern-day saint) saw me once a week, which I mention because I don’t want to make it seem like gardening magically fought my depression by itself, it was hard work, but gardening definitely had a big hand in it.
“Fernando!” you are shouting alone in your office “Tell me how it f*cking helped!” to which I say that there's no need for foul language, but let's get to that.
I set up the garden so that every day I had something interesting to do; maybe I had to record the growth of the corn, or trim the epazote, or talk to the police because the pumpkins had grown like crazy and were invading the sidewalk.
When I felt sadness coming for me, I always had some pruning or watering to do, or a gourd to collect and cook, or lemongrass to make tea out of, or flowers to look at and feel joy, my garden was not perfect, but it was precious to me.
When depression is setting in, your mind tends to go to dark places, you see yourself as a constant failure and as good for nothing. And this daily work in the garden was enough to get me out of that vicious cycle; every day, I would get a bit of sunlight and a sense of accomplishment from my gardening. These small things are very good at pushing you out of the depressive mindset.
To me, gardening was a bit like meditation; it was a time when Maximus and I would be out there, no music, no electronics, just a man and his dog in the garden, basking in the sunlight, fighting vines and getting stung by bugs. Sometimes I honestly miss those times.
I am still thankful for that time out in the sun; it was calming, beautiful, and extremely fulfilling. It's no wonder I tell everyone that gardening is what got me through the pandemic.
In 2021 I would move out of that house and leave my little garden behind, a garden that gave me such great moments with my dogs and cats, that gave me wonderful anecdotes and nice vegetables, this garden that got me through the worst year in my personal history, and I was closing that chapter and moving on to new, greener gardens. It may not have been the biggest or lushest of gardens, but it was mine, and it made me happy.
