- Jul 28, 2016
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One of the simplest ways to get down to the basics of your health is what you feed yourself. Simple, yet not necessarily easy in this time of disconnection of food systems from food eaters, expensive real estate as populations grow and cities expand and constant food advertising barrage.
Increasingly, I find myself growing from someone who thought simple was measured by how quickly, cheaply and efficiently I could buy my calories to becoming a proponent of the 'grow it myself' mindset. After all, growing a garden takes work, time, effort, a constant source of water and sunlight, good dirt and farming knowledge I didn't start out with! Even after the hard work of getting the land ready and planting the garden I have to be there to grow the garden or at least find someone who can tend it, weed and water it and harvest things from it if I am away from home. How could that be anything but complicated?
What I am finding is that this depends on one's perspective. If I think in terms of how can I best tend my body to keep it in good working order, then growing anything in the garden that I can eat is a definite step in that direction. After all, I decide if I use pesticides, fertilizer, etc in my garden. In the grocery store it has become, over the course of my lifetime, increasingly complicated to discern what is in my food, and how it has been altered. If you doubt this, try growing a few plants from seeds in fruits from the grocery store. First, you need to find a plant that is not seedless. Once you do, you may find that either no plant grows or it is sterile, with no fruits to pick. This was initially a surprise to me when I tried it out, and it was a surprise to find what a high percentage of the food I was buying worked this way, compared to planting seeds bought to garden with. "Come on!" I thought, "I should be able to plant this and have it grow, especially the plants which I can see contain seeds."
So, once it had sunk in that even the organic food I was buying had been altered, growing my own simple plants started to make a bit more sense. I could pick which seeds I planted and I liked that. It was simpler. Heirloom, organic, shoots taken from a friend's garden, either enhanced with plant growth hormones or not... I chose. It became a sort of longterm choice: Do I put money and time into the garden now to decrease the chances of spending a lot more in medications, hospitals, etc. later? I became increasingly adept at weighing these options and found myself coming in increasingly on the side of growing my own.
My favourite garden simplicity, hands-down, is the "Okay, what can I pick for dinner tonight?" aspect. If I hadn't made it to the grocery store, there was always something in the garden I could pick to add to the plate. This took more pressure off me than I ever could have guessed. I realized that I'd grown up with an assumption that making a healthy, balanced dinner was easy, although my experience argued that doing this day-in, day-out was anything but. Picking part of dinner from the garden usually made for good stories and conversation too, which I enjoy.
Even if all you have room or time or space for is a few herbs, eating anything freshly picked is packed with many more microminerals and vitamins than many handfuls of limp greens that had to travel miles to your plate. Even plants generally considered weeds can fill in long lists of deficiencies: lamb's quarters, dandelion, purslane and mullein come immediately to mind.

Lamb's quarters

Purslane
Then there are the additional healthy aspects of having a garden. There is almost nothing like a garden, it turns out, for starting animated, passionate conversations with neighbours (or random strangers), especially as they walk by just as you have covered your clothes in manure and flung dirt in your eye. Connection is vital to health, we all crave it, and gardening is a magnet for such interactions. Then there is that need to get outside and tend the garden, in all weather, even when you are in a funk. And what better way is there to get out of a funk than digging a hole in the dirt and then placing something beautiful there to grow, or just imagining that next phase of the garden? Or chopping up branches with gusto, defusing an anger you didn't realize you harboured? And feeling the sun's rays on your skin, filling you with vitamin D, or getting soaked to the skin and finding yourself laughing at something that was irritating you while you were indoors and dry.
Simplicity, it seems, is all in the perspective.
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