Self-Care for Gardeners

Are you taking good care of yourself?

I’m not much for terms like “self-care”. I’m a lucky person, so how much pampering could I possibly need? The concept of self-care, to me, has seemed too inwardly focused and over-indulgent. But lately I’ve been realizing that I’ve been wrong. As others have rightly noted, right along, if you don’t take care of yourself, you won’t be in very good shape to take care of others.

Self-care doesn’t equate to being self-absorbed. It simply involves taking a few steps to make oneself happy and healthy, with a peaceful mind and the feeling of being “solid”. Steps can include devoting a little thought to the sights, scents, and routines that give us the most comfort and/or the greatest release. For those of us who love plants, simply getting into the garden can be a stellar act of self-care.

This summer, I wanted to be judicious with my funds. I added just a handful of annuals to window boxes, and about five new perennials to my garden beds. This spartan approach was new to me, but I figured this could be my year of making the most of what I already have, dividing and transplanting rather than adding. Looking out to my gardens now, I realize this was not an act of self-care.

Edelweiss and Sweet Autumn Clematis—Adding vs. Not Adding

I typically enjoy getting to know the likes and dislikes of some new perennials each year. I have grown Edelweiss in the past, but I have wanted to grow a large patch of it, with its foliage that looks as though it was kissed by frost and with its star-like blooms. Planted in a drift, it’s gorgeous. Did I purchase Edelweiss this year? No. 

I also love the star-shaped blooms of Sweet Autumn Clematis, a vigorous vine I have in a couple of spots around the yard. I wanted to add more, so as not to disturb what is already growing so well. Did I add more Sweet Autumn Clematis? No. Spartan approach.

It’s funny that in talking about self-care, my mind goes to Edelweiss and Sweet Autumn Clematis. Edelweiss offers not only pleasing visuals (the flower “stars” with their golden-dot centers), but also, it is pleasing to the touch. Its flowers are described as being “woolly”, but I think of them as less coarse and feeling a lot like suede. As I weed around my perennials to make more room for them to grow—not weeding nearly enough, by the way—I love to inspect the plants I’ve intentionally added to the garden. In the midst of pulling knotweed, digging dandelions, and struggling to remove the low-to-the ground weeds called plantains, I take a moment to admire the great look and fuzzy beauty of Edelweiss. This is an act of self-care. The stress associated with weeding falls by the wayside, and noticing the foliage of Edelweiss, I find myself in the Alps or running along a hillside with a family of singers and their wonderful governess—something right out of a movie. Adding more Edelweiss… a luxury? No, an act of self-care, and something that brings happiness to me.

Sweet Autumn Clematis is a vine that requires patience. Its blooms don’t appear in my zone until the very first of September, but that is perhaps when they are needed most. Once the wait is over, Sweet Autumn Clematis has flowers with a magical starry form, and these flowers appear in multitudes. But its big offering is its fragrance. Just the way Jasmine or Lily of the Valley turns the air dreamy, Sweet Autumn Clematis emits a sweet scent that clears troubles away. This vine rises up from a number of stems, trailing in different directions. I am not game to dig up some of mine and transplant it. But many do. Still, no matter how it arrives in the garden, either through purchase of new plants or division and transplanting, its scent will transport you to a peaceful place. Taking steps to make this happen… self-care.

Gardening as an Act of Self-Care

My failure to add to my gardens this year was balanced out by the fact that I did move forward with my plan to divide and transplant many perennials. This was hard work… but to my surprise, this was self-care. True, I didn’t have many new plants to admire, but I did get to take a closer look at the beauty of what was already in place. Nature takes a mature Rose of Sharon and deposits little “gift shrubs” near the mother plant, permitting the gardener to relocate them to spots where beautiful hibiscus flowers are needed. Nature has just sent up purple Asters, barely remembered from last year, in a patch of my garden that had seemed to contain nothing. Nature took a struggling Rose and got it back into beautiful shape this summer…. All this happened with a little help from me, with gardening that served as my own self-care.

Edelweiss, Sweet Autumn Clematis—these are lovely plants, but you can replace their names with plant names and varieties of your choice. Just focus on a couple that look great and/or smell great, and consider adding them to your garden. These two can go into the ground now, settling in in plenty of time to return with strength next spring. Edelweiss will look okay, but Sweet Autumn Clematis may not be able to produce a bevy of flowers for this present season. But adding these plants now is surely good work to prepare for next summer and fall. And many other plants are like this—very happy to undergo a pre-fall planting.

From Me to You

For the gardener, finding sights and scents to help with self-care is very possible. And I know that for the gardener, the act of gardening—getting into the sun to dig, smelling just-fallen rain or the soil or a flower, getting exercise, feeling the rhythm of Nature—that is self-care.

Are you taking good care of yourself? Be sure you are.