Growing Things
BY MICAH KLASSEN
Art by Micah Klassen
If you want to know
Where my soul comes alive, go
To where the flowers grow wild
Linger, unhurried,
In lavender and lilac–
Lie down among the daisies
/ mk /
A number of weeks ago, my mother-in-law took the boys and me to a nursery to pick out some plants as a housewarming gift, and after arriving home, we spent the morning in the backyard (in the rain) slowly repotting flowers. Both my boys were very eager to help us fill planters with potting mix, making holes for the new plants with their little toy gardening tools, and when they weren’t helping us with this they wandered around the yard, digging in the dirt and playing contentedly with the hose.
I remember feeling like that morning held a sense of sacredness for me. There was something special about learning from my mother-in-law as she shared her knowledge and experience with us, showing us how to transfer and care for plants correctly.
I loved it even more because the boys were super engaged, and it felt like we could’ve spent hours out there pottering around in the soil – despite the rainy weather.
I’m an absolute novice when it comes to growing things, but my soul finds such a sense of peace every time I’m surrounded by wildflowers or have my hands in the soil, loosening tangled roots and digging up weeds. For me, there’s something so satisfying about nourishing a plant in a way that enables it to produce, something deeply grounding about the slow, steady rhythm tending a garden requires. Our current “garden” consists of a pot of struggling lavender, some wine-red dahlias (my favorites), a straggly sunflower stalk, some beautiful watermelon gerbera daisies, one little hanging foliage basket, a leafy, low-maintenance hosta, a flourishing strawberry plant and one lone cherry tomato vine – currently in the process of producing its first tomato!
***
I think often about how I can teach values like patience, self-control and delayed gratification to my boys (in age-appropriate ways, of course) when we’re so deeply embedded in western consumerist culture. The world we are currently a part of is one where convenience is prioritized, excess is largely taken for granted and success is often associated with speed and quantity, rather than quality. It can feel as if there is less and less tolerance within society for things that require process.
Every time we go to a store here in the sprawling suburbs of Vancouver, the boys are confronted with stuff they don’t need but will inevitably want, and I often feel prompted to preface our shopping trips with words to the effect of: “Okay boys, when we go into the store, you’re going to see things you’ll probably want me to buy, but I just want you to know that today we are only going to spend money on the things that we need. I’m warning you now, before we go in, that my answer to any requests for new toys is going to be ‘No.’”
Predictably, the requests still come, and my warnings need to be repeated multiple times – usually prompting tears, disappointed whining and, yes, the occasional tantrum.
How do I teach our boys the difference between wants and needs in a world where these are constantly conflated?
From the perspective of a two and four-year-old, if you want something, all you have to do is go to a store, tap a plastic card or electronic device until it makes a beeping sound, and that thing then becomes yours – whether it be toys, food, candy, clothing, pets etc.
Magical, right?!
Yet somewhere – in some town, city, factory or field – someone is doing the work. Growing food. Working the soil. Sewing clothing. Trawling the ocean. Manufacturing parts. Cleaning up the mess. Laboring long and hard to keep the well-oiled machine of western consumerism running.
I personally don’t think there’s anything wrong with convenience, in and of itself. A little of it here and there to make life easier is a wonderful thing; it's just when the glorification of such convenience begins to detract from the principles our kids will need to become mature, responsible adults that I begin to sense an inner resistance bubbling up. As my husband and I well know, any purchase is only made possible when we have money on those plastic cards, and making that money is a process – something that requires time, commitment and consistency. So this is where gardening comes in.
On top of it being a therapeutic, rewarding hobby for me, I also see it as a valuable opportunity to teach the boys a little more about process.
Right now is perfect timing because they’re both very interested in where things come from, and we’ve been having a lot of conversations around origins and functions. Wilder peppers Grant and me with questions like “What do vacuum trucks do?” during bedtime snuggles, and Asher, our four-year-old, is super fascinated by food. He loves being in the kitchen with me, helping me chop, mix and taste new ingredients, and has quickly begun to learn that cooking involves the process of compiling a group of specific ingredients and following a certain set of steps to achieve the intended culinary result. While devouring some favorite snack or meal, he’ll often ask “How do you make these?” and we then spend a few minutes talking about it. I love making space for their curiosity and watching their little eyes widen in wonder as they listen to me explaining how things are created, or where something originates. Seeing their delight when we got to pick our first ripe strawberry a few days ago was priceless . . . . They were enthralled!
I guess the caveat to all this is that I’m just as much a student as my boys are when it comes to horticulture. Our venture into the world of growing things is going to cost time, money, dedication and a whole bunch of frantic google searches . . . . But my willingness to learn, relentless curiosity and deep love of all things botanical stems right back to my childhood years on the east coast of New Zealand, where life took place against breathtaking vignettes of opal ocean, white sand and deep emerald shades of native forest sloping upward from the beaches.
My pop (my mother’s dad), whom I dearly loved, was a professional land surveyor and local Historian in our small town, and because my siblings and I were home-schooled, Mum would often send me to work with him on educational trips. I’d be charged with writing a report afterward as an English exercise – detailing what we saw and did. Some of my most precious childhood memories are from those excursions into the bush (as we Kiwis call it), or to small protected islands lying just offshore, where Pop would point out plants and birds to me, teaching me their native names and telling me of their historical relationship to the Maori people. I was deeply fascinated at the time, but looking back now as an adult, those trips were hugely instrumental in my young life because one of my favorite things to do after moving to a new country (we’ve moved twice in the past twelve years) is to get to know the local flora and fauna.
In Australia, where my husband and I lived for ten years before moving to Vancouver, I loved breathing in the pungent scent of waxy green eucalyptus leaves and feeling the velvety softness of Protea petals. During neighborhood walks with the boys, I savored views of bright red bottlebrush flowers and papery bougainvillea petals spilling over brick walls like pink champagne. I loved searching out the neon shades of various coastal succulents down by the ocean, always amazed at how brightly their colors glowed! But because the Sydney heat was quite harsh, we didn’t really manage to grow anything in our sandy backyard other than one hardy rosemary bush, a small lemon tree and a few low-maintenance indoor pot plants. However here in the lower mainland of BC, the soil is constantly being watered with rain. It’s rich and dark, and I’ve fallen in love with the vast array of wildflowers and trees that flourish here!
***
In many ways, gardening reminds me of parenting because there are no shortcuts when it comes to facilitating new growth (unless you like to buy already-flowering plants, like me!).
Whether it comes in the form of fruit, vegetables and flowers, or whether it manifests as unfolding buds of character and maturity in our kids, the work to achieve new growth is so very rewarding.
So, here’s to growing things!
MICAH KLASSEN was raised in New Zealand and homeschooled by her mum, who was the first to spark a love for creative writing in her during primary school. That spark quickly morphed into flame — writing is such a cathartic expression for Micah and has helped her through some very difficult seasons. In 2010, she moved to Australia, fell in love and married her Canadian sweetheart — They now have two babies and Micah is doing her best not to fall off the wild rollercoaster ride that is Motherhood! Currently writing from Vancouver, Canada.