Fortunately, I know how to work at something everyday and not expect to see results for a long time, if at all. That is parenting.
The word "gardening" can summon a multitude of images. You might envision a pristine English garden with stone pathways, lavender, fountains. You may think of a window box outside of your apartment where pansies brighten your winter days and fresh herbs grow all summer. You may think of row after tidy row of vegetables, or endless hours of work for something that you could just as easily get at the store. I think of gardening as eternal hope.
I start my gardening in winter: daydreaming of fresh, juicy tomatoes plucked off the vine and enjoyed with a sprinkle of salt; butterflies and bees working diligently to pollinate my vegetables-to-be; hours lounging in the shade with a cold drink. When spring comes, my thoughts turn to work: where to plant what; what vegetables need more space; how much sun each garden bed will get in the summer. But all that daydreaming and planning just come down to getting some seeds, putting them in the dirt, covering them up, adding water, and waiting.
Likewise, I plant seeds in my children's hearts and minds. Sometimes the conditions are ideal: the seed is nurtured with just the right amount of attention, love, food, shelter. However, there are times of drought: not enough time, not enough patience, not enough resources. There are times of flood: too much rushing, too much "because I said so," too many "Nos!" But like the seeds in my garden, they sprout. They start off small and unsure, needing constant attention. We must make sure that there is enough light for times of growth, enough darkness for times of rest, enough love for good health.
And so they grow. Like weeds! And we can see the results of our work. We see tiny sprouts of green turn into peas, spinach, tomatoes. We hear our own words (for better or for worse) repeated back to us in such cute little voices. We see so clearly the origins of their thoughts.
Under good conditions, they grow stronger and don't need constant care. The plants form stronger roots and confidently grow up. Our children have their own ideas, their own way of moving through the world. They may say things that we cannot understand. They come into their own. And we must let them.
My children are gardening beside me this year. Getting dirty, finding earthworms and snakes. Digging up garden beds that I have asked them not to, apologizing, then digging up more garden beds that I have firmly told them not to. We will be learning together about vegetables, water, weeds, bug control, and most importantly, each other. For just as the most dedicated gardener cannot control the sun or the rain, the most dedicated parent cannot control the growing mind of a child. We plant the seeds, do our best with the conditions we are given (or try to create better conditions), and lounge in the shade with a cold drink.
Plant something today. A seed. A kiss. Anything you have. Just do it with love. And tell me about the results.
