Playing in the dirt holds a fascination for people of all ages and abilities, but how many consider its benefit to their health? Adults play in the dirt in many ways and know it by many names. Some call it landscaping, others call it yard work, the majority call it gardening. My garden provides me with a multitude of those benefits all year round. Farming, the best known down and dirty occupation, is in a category of its own with a unique set of trials and tribulations. Let’s focus on the urban dirt digging. Whatever the name, the benefits abound. First and best recognized is the value of the results themselves, the food. Go to any local farmers market and you’ll see throngs of people swarming shoulder to shoulder examining their choices like a jeweler in search of the perfect gem.
Most markets are outdoors and open to the elements, be they summer’s stifling sunshine and heat or fall’s raw, cold winds. Tank tops to parkas, the crowds still come. Whatever the weather, there is no escape from the fresh air; again a known benefit but seldom considered a factor in the search for fruits from the soil.
Playing in the dirt requires a degree of concentration and focus. Of necessity, the mind clears itself of the accumulated baggage that pervades every waking (and sometimes sleeping) hour. Built-up stresses and tensions are thrown out with each lump of dirt. Angry at your boss? Dig harder. Annoyed with your kids? Dig faster. Just getting dirty is a freedom in itself. Let go of the tensions as you take control of your actions. And speaking of actions, think of all the exercise you’re getting!
Winter is a time of cold and snow in Alberta and I, like many others, hunker down to concentrate on staying warm. The shorter days often mean leaving for work in the dark and returning home the same way. For the period in between, we are enclosed in buildings with artificial light and air, and may never see real sunlight until the weekend. Studies have shown this makes us prime candidates for SAD (seasonal affective disorders). But that doesn’t have to be.
Rather than a dark imprisonment, I look for the light. I may not do it for myself, but add a couple of potted plants to the picture and watch the quest for the best growing conditions. Where is the natural light? In nurturing my plants’ demands for sun, I find it for myself. Daily visits to check on the water and health of the plants means my own daily exposure to the sunlight. They also create a mental time-out and turn my attention away from the day’s stresses. And while the exercise factor may not be overwhelming, at least there is some. In his book Future Shock, Alvin Toffler expounds the theory that our social environment is changing so quickly there is no time to adapt to the compounding stresses. So if time is the problem, a garden is the perfect solution. Nothing is fast in a garden; there is an unchanging order as old as time itself. The requirements are basic: water, soil, seeds and care. As soon as the ground thaws in spring, the garden beckons me like a siren. Without any embarrassment I don my oldest, grubbiest clothes and make a point of breaking free of my sterile world to get dirty. With spade in hand I dig, turn, and pull up roots with an almost hypnotic rhythm. My mind free-wheels as I dig, releasing pent-up stresses and frustrations to the winds. There is no deadline, only results. If I don’t finish today, there are weeks of tomorrows. The stiffness and slivers are badges of honor, proof to myself of exercise, fresh air and sunshine. My sleep is deep and restful thanks to physical exhaustion and my relaxed state of mind. Planting my garden takes a little thought. What do I want to grow? Where should I put it? How much space will it take? With these weighty decisions resolved, I move forward to the comforting tedium of measuring the rows, digging and watering the trenches, and planting the seeds. Then the last satisfying step – planting the row markers. Bend and stretch, breathe deeply, enjoy the sunshine, focus only on the task at hand. What better way to heal your body and soul? Throughout the summer the garden keeps calling me back. Like a child, it needs loving care and attention. Does it need water? Are there weeds to pull? And the excitement of the "firsts": the first sprout, the first flower, the first pea. As the season moves on, no five-star restaurant can compete with the flavor of fresh-picked produce grown by my own hand. Washed and often eaten raw, my family savors the succulent, non-artificially enhanced nutrition in its natural state retaining most, if not all, of the vitamins. And just as the fruit and vegetables feed the body, the flowers feed the senses and the mind. With summer on the wane, I turn my attention to the fall harvest. While I may have preserved food in various ways through the course of the summer, now its time to reap what I have sown. As in the spring, I return to the soothing and healthy monotony of digging, turning and pulling. But this time what I’m pulling will feed us through the winter and continue to give us the vitamins we so badly need. Freezing, canning, baking and jams are lined up on shelves and racks like orderly soldiers awaiting their call to action. Surveying them gives me a feeling of pride and accomplishment at a level I will never encounter in my professional life.
The monetary cost of health care through gardening is minimal. The benefits, both mental and physical, are priceless. Compare that to the cost of pills and gyms and you’ll have good reason to go dig up some dirt.
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