#growlikeamum

These were the first of many that I plan on picking each month. I am hoping to start a tradition with Ruby of picking a small bunch of flowers each month and giving them to someone we know who might need cheering up. Or “just because”.

The act of giving, of being grateful, or a thank you card is such a precious life lesson. It’s one that for a short while in my life I think I lost touch with. Too busy to notice the little things that can make a difference to someone’s day. Or too caught up in my own worries to think about how others may be feeling. Missing an opportunity to check in and ask a friend, a family member or a colleague if they’re ok.

Growing my own flowers and veg has made me slow down. It’s made me appreciate the wait. To look forward with hopeful optimism to a seed poking its head up, or for a strawberry to be just right for picking, or for just the right temperature to plant out tender seedlings so they thrive. And it’s during that wait that you notice the things around you. Not only nature and all its amazing lessons, but people. Your neighbour, your fellow allotment holder, your postman. And when you notice and make the effort to connect with these people, the rewards are priceless.

Ruby and I did just that these last weeks. We noticed and kept our distance from what we initially took to be a bit of a grumpy old man who had a space in the poly tunnel where he grows strawberries. This has been a nightmare for me, as every time Ruby and I go in, she spies the shiny red jewels a mile off and I have to remind her that they aren’t ours and to keep her mits off! But over the weeks, we have carefully taken the time to get to know him a little more. Always being respectful. His name is David. He lives in his own. The other day, whilst I was out watering the plot late one evening, he was just leaving and asked if I would be bringing Ruby down to the allotment any time soon. I said most probably the next day. He replied that the next time she was down, she was welcome to take not just one, but TWO strawberries. And so when we came the next day, I said to Ruby she could pick two and guided her to a couple of juicy but modest ones (I couldn’t take his best ones!) She was thrilled.

To say thank you, I sat down with Ruby that afternoon and we made a thank you card for David. We left it on the stawberries and this is what was left on our bench the next time I arrived to check on our plants:

For some time now I have been pondering the idea of writing a blog post about my passion. A passion that crept up on me slowly the last 5 years and then hit me smack in the in face last September. A year and a half after returning to work after having a baby.

Before having my daughter, Ruby, I had previously owned an allotment plot and attempted to grow my own veg, but it was a big plot and I seemed to spend more time pulling out weeds than growing prize-winning pumpkins. In fact, it was quite the joke in my family when at the occasional Sunday roast, I’d be beaming with delight over a lone parsnip on a plate that, despite its wonky state, absolutely deserved a standing ovation because it was grown by my fair hand and came from my plot.

And yet despite my enthusiasm, my life had started to fill with other priorities. I was commuting a long way to work, we had a busy social life. My trips to the allotment became less, and my harvests became non-existent. My attendance at the allotment committee meetings was verging on poor (Oh yes! I was a fully-fledged allotment committee member too!). One day after a particularly hectic week, my husband gently suggested that give it up. And so…I did. I reluctantly gave notice on my plot, resigned from my position on the committee, and threw myself into work and the rest of life as I knew it.  

And then in November 2016 I fell pregnant with my daughter, Ruby. At the same time they were making redundancies at my work, and so I opted for voluntary and found myself with a bit of time in my hands a few months before she was born. And I found my way back to the allotments… wondering amongst the plots and gazing enviously at the neat rows of carrots and shiny red strawberries. I bumped into the Chair of the committee and she suggested that I take a small plot on the community allotment that would be more manageable. I practically bit her hand of there and then.

That was three years ago and since then I’ve been tending this little 2 by 2 metre plot with more gusto and enthusiasm than ever before. As well as growing way more vegetables, this tiny little patch of soil has been my absolute saviour.  

It’s helped me to discover more about my values, what genuinely makes me happy and what’s important to me. I’ve found my Tribe of equally enthusiastic and friendly allotment folk – both fellow community allotment holders on our site, and GYO enthusiasts on Instagram (I set up an Instagram account @growlikeamum to save my friends and family from being bombarded with pictures of marrows and “cute baby cucumbers”!) It’s also hobby is that I can involve Ruby with – it gets us out the house and into fresh air. She’s learning about where her food comes from and has no issues with eating her greens. And she pretty free to run wild and explore the plot as she pleases… chatting to snails or pinching someone else’s strawberries!

And yet the biggest and most valuable benefit of growing my own only became apparent to me late last year. This was a particular difficult time for me. I was trying to juggle a new role, a long commute as well as attempting to be a fully present mum and wife. I felt stressed, overwhelmed, and was being pretty hard on myself. And on a day when it all felt a bit too much, I headed to my little plot, picked up a spade, and started digging. I literally felt myself physically and mentally unwind. It was on this day that it hit me that it really is true. Being outside, connecting with nature and all that comes with the growing your own 100% helps your mental health. It helps you to gain some much-needed perspective and it’s taught me some very important lessons in life.

And whilst the worlds of allotments and my corporate job in Leadership Development may seem poles apart (if you pardon the pun!) I keep finding myself drawing parallels. Especially in light of COVID-19 pandemic.

The lessons in mental health and mindfulness, this connectedness with nature that lock down has brought and the benefits this brings. The need for patience - as I have discovered the hard way that different seeds and plant varieties all adjust to light, temperature and their environment at very different rates. What works for some, doesn’t work for others in much the same way as people. The need for good measured judgement, and learning from our mistakes (do I plant now and risk a frost, do I hold off?) The need for kindness and compassion for those in our community, looking out for one another and genuinely showing we care. The care, consideration and gratitude for this planet and our environment that nearly every grower I’ve met has shown. And finally, the understanding and acceptance that sometimes you get things wrong, that things often aren’t perfect and that’s ok. There’s always next season.

So yes, there’s a lot our corporate leaders can learn from some seeds and some soil.

And as today marks the end of Mental Health Awareness week and it’s the beginning of National Children's Gardening Week  – I am sharing this poem I wrote last week which sums up just how much I have personally benefited from pursuing my GYO passion and what lessons I’ll be passing on to Ruby. I hope you enjoy reading it … and then if you’re feeling inspired, go plant a seed 😉

Plant a seed, my darling 

 If ever you’re sad my darling, plant a seed

For that seed is a symbol of hope 

From its small and humble beginning

It can turn in to a mighty Oak

 If ever you’re lost my darling, plant a seed

For that seed gives you something to do

You nurture and water and tend it

Until you see its tiny head poking through 

 If life gets too fast my darling, plant a seed

For that seed slows you down in your tracks

Its lesson in patience is priceless 

It calms you, and teaches you to relax 

 If ever you’re angry my darling, plant a seed

Leave those feelings down in the ground

You’ll see that forgiveness is better 

And the perspective you seek can be found 

 And when you’re happy my darling, plant a seed

For your happiness grows with that plant

And when one turns to many, you’ll soon find

You have a garden that’s full of your heart 

 And for the next generation, my darling, plant a seed

Teach them all of the lessons you’ve learnt 

Teach them love and compassion and kindness 

And that beauty can spring from the dirt 

 And when you’re old, my darling, keep planting those seeds

Never give nature short shrift 

Because a seedling, a flower or garden