What’s on my autumn reading list for 2023

Posted on September 30, 2023 by John Kevin Hickey

“Well, there’s so much to read, and I’m so far behind.”

Wallace Stegner, Crossing to Safety

Today I want to share with you my autumn reading list. It’s funny, but while I was writing this post, I realized that I have only done one summer reading list. Meanwhile, I’ve done several autumn reading lists. I guess that’s because summer is a season of activity, with little time for introspection. Gardening, road trips, bicycling, lounging in the hammock. You know. Stuff.

Autumn, on the other hand, is a season perfectly conducive for reading. The weather is turning cooler, the nights are growing longer, and the fireplace in the library is singing its siren song. I think there is a nostalgia factor as well. While I hated going back to school in September, there were a couple of positive things of note about the new school year. I could check books out from the school library once again, and the first of the Scholastic Book catalogs were handed out sometime in September or October.

Life doesn’t come with a syllabus.

As an aside, should you ever google the terms “book lists” or “reading lists”, you will get a ton of results that with titles like “30 books you must read this autumn” or “25 books you need to read this summer”. Since I started blogging, I’ve learned that words like must, need, and have are called “power” words. Writers use power words to increase clicks to their posts. In other words, clickbait.

I would never presume to tell anybody what they should read. I post these reading lists to show what books I plan on reading. Perhaps a reader might look at my list and think to themselves that some of these books sound interesting to them. Conversely, perhaps somebody might look at my list, and offer suggestions of similar books that might be of interest to me.

I used to look at lists, such as “50 books every man should read” and think to myself that maybe I should read those books to make myself more informed individual. Eventually, I realized that mentality is bullshit. I’m not in school anymore, and life doesn’t come with a syllabus. We should read what we want to read. Screw what other people think. Reading should be for our enjoyment.

Speaking of enjoyment, let’s quit talking and get to the books!

In no particular order…

Tower of Silence – Book 4 Saga of the Forgotten Warrior by Larry Correia

The Saga of the Forgotten Warrior follows Ashok Vadal, a man who was forged by magic into a perfect instrument for enforcing the edicts of the ruling class. And the ruling class is fomenting a civil war amongst themselves. A man with no empathy, Ashok has been scapegoated by one of the vying factions and is now a wanted criminal. In Ashok’s world, men rule the land while demons are masters of the oceans. While the nations of men prepare for a final showdown, the demons of the deep have plans of their own for mankind. Meanwhile, Ashok grapples with the knowledge that everything he stood for was a lie, while at the same time trying to save his people from the approaching doom.

The Harp and the Eagle by Susanna Ural Bruce

I don’t know much about this book. I’m not sure, but I think I got it from my father. Being of full Irish descent, my dad was quite interested in Irish-American history. (I hate using hyphenated American anything. We’re all Americans. However, for brevity, I am using it here). I have read many books on the American Civil War, but never one that deals with one specific ethnic group. And the Irish who served during the Civil War were an interesting lot. While most Irish immigrants fought on the Union side, they were actually sympathetic to the Democratic (the party) view on slavery and the war. And it was the Irish who spearheaded many of the violent protests against the draft in the North.

The Olympian Affair – Book 2 of the Cinder Spires by Jim Butcher

Way back in September of 2015, Jim Butcher, author of the Dresden Novels, released a strange little book called The Aeronauts Windlass (Amazon.com: The Aeronaut’s Windlass). Part fantasy, part steam punk, the book followed the adventures of Captain Grim, commander and merchant/privateer of a powered airship on a planet where humans don’t belong. Humans live their entire lives in “spires”, or tall mountain structures, because the lands “beneath the clouds” are too hostile for them. A cold war exists between the various spires, with a hot war brewing in the future. Meanwhile, an ancient malevolent force, vanished for millennia, is returning. And the “magic users” of this world, who can see the approaching threats, are all literally insane.

After an eight-year hiatus, Jim Butcher will release book 2 of the series in November. I have no idea what happened in Butcher’s life (I’ve heard that he is going through a second divorce), but about ten years ago his writing went on a multi-year sabbatical, and he has struggled to get back into his writing groove ever since. He used to be able to crank out novels in 12-18 months. Now it takes years. I’m going to have to glance over the Aeronaut’s Windlass to reacquaint myself with the characters and plot, just so I will know what is going on The Olympian Affair.

A Great Improvisation: Franklin, France, and the Birth of America by Stacy Schiff

I recently finished Stacy Schiff’s The Revolutionary: Samuel Adams (review coming soon!) and found it both an interesting and, more importantly, enjoyable read. So, I’ve decided to crack open her biography of Benjamin Franklin. I’ve read a couple of Franklin biographies, including his autobiography, and find him to be a fascinating individual. What piqued my interest about this particular bio is that it deals specifically with Franklin’s role as an ambassador to France for the fledging United States. With no diplomatic experience whatsoever, Franklin was able to convince an absolute monarchy to back a newly formed democracy against the most powerful nation in Europe. It certainly helped his cause that the French, from commoners to nobles, were completely enchanted by the roughhewn genius from the New World.

The Art of the Personal Essay: An Anthology from the Classical Era to the Present by Phillip Lopate

If you dig deep into the memory banks of your mind, you might remember how we were taught in school that there were four types of essays: argumentative, expository, narrative and descriptive (author’s note: I had to look those up on the interwebz. I couldn’t remember them to save my life!). These types of essays could be considered “formal”. Phillip Lopate has put together a collection of “informal essays” whose content spans centuries and from around the globe. An informal essay is whatever might be on the author’s mind. Unlike formal essays, there are no specific rules or requirements on how topics are presented.

As an example, most of my blog posts are informal essays.

Let me state that is a very weighty tome. Instead of trying to read the whole thing, I’m going to pick out, oh, let’s say 10 since it’s a nice round number, that sound interesting. (Tip o’ the hat to Dave S. for the recommendation).

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Washington Irving

Since autumn is the season of ghosts, witches, jack-o-lanterns and things that extort candy in the night in exchange for not egging your house, I figure this is a perfect time to re-read Washington Irving’s The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. A mystery that will never be solved: did poor Ichabod Crane run off in shame after being punked by a rival suitor for the daughter of the richest man in Sleepy Hollow? Or did the Headless Hessian really take Ichabod’s soul on that dark night on that deserted road? Only the reader can say for sure!

Bonus book

Whose Body? by Dorothy L. Sayers

Mysteries are not my favorite genre, but I do like me a good whodunnit every now and then. I’ve followed the exploits of many of the greatest detectives in print: Sherlock Holmes, Hercules Poirot and Encyclopedia Brown to name a few.

But I am finicky about my mysteries. I’ve really enjoyed Craig Johnson’s Longmire series over the years, but his last couple of novels have been weird. So, I’ve decided to go back to the classics. Dorothy Sayers was a contemporary of Agatha Christie, but I have never read her before. Her books follow one Lord Peter Wimsey as he solves crimes in England during the years following WWI. In this first book of the series, Lord Wimsey, a rare book collector and a war vet suffering from what today would be known as PTSD, endeavors to solve the mystery of a dead man found naked in a bathtub, wearing nothing but a pince-nez. Sounds intriguing.

So, what’s on your autumn reading list? Science fiction, history, maybe a mystery? Perhaps a gothic horror fitting for the season?

Posted in Books, Reading lists | Tagged | Comments Off on What’s on my autumn reading list for 2023

Autumn, ’tis a bittersweet season

Posted on September 23, 2023 by John Kevin Hickey

But when fall comes, kicking summer out on its treacherous ass as it always does one day sometime after the midpoint of September, it stays awhile like an old friend that you have missed. It settles in the way an old friend will settle into your favorite chair and take out his pipe and light it and then fill the afternoon with stories of places he has been and things he has done since last he saw you.” – Salem’s Lot

Stephen King

Autumn officially arrived at 00:50 this morning here in the Mountain time zone. Cheers to the return of the best season of the whole year!

I have mentioned more than once on this blog that I am a huge fan of autumn (see: Autumn splendor in Colorado, Welcome back autumn you’ve been missed, Welcome Autumn, I’ve had enough of summer. It’s time to move on to autumn., and Autumn is here…finally!.

After weeks/months of blistering summer heat, the cooler days of autumn are a blessed relief. I can finally enjoy being outside again. I don’t turn in to a sweaty pile of clothes the moment I set foot out my door. I don’t handle heat very well. Never have. I spend almost the entire month of August hiding out from the heat, with the a/c running during the day and fans blowing all night. Being trapped inside all day leads to a bit of cabin fever.

However, when autumn rolls back around I am rejuvenated. The cooler days entice me back out into the yard, or onto the bike paths. It’s enjoyable once again to just relax on the patio, or in my hammock.

There’s so much to look forward to in the autumn months. Fall is the season of Halloween and Thanksgiving. Football has returned. Spicy chili and cornbread are back on the menu. The trees put on a stunning display to close out the growing season. The garden returns, albeit briefly, to its former glory. And the mosquitos have disappeared. Huzzah!

Still, I must admit that while autumn is my favorite time of the year, even I have conflicting feelings about the season. Autumn is a season that sometimes can engender introspection and sadness, for a variety of reasons.

After all, the days are growing shorter while the shadows grow longer, and the veil between this world and the next grows thin.

Autumn introspection and nostalgia; a season of sadness…

Moody autumn sunrise, Centennial, Colorado

Each season has a “feeling” to it. For me, winter is to be endured.

Spring is a transition season, but it is transition of optimism and renewed vigor, when the days have grown longer, and life abounds yet again.

Summer is the season of BBQs and the 4th of July, of vacations and trips to the mountains/beaches/whateverfloatsyour boat. It’s baseball games and summer concerts, pool parties and amusement parks. It’s the season that celebrates life.

Autumn, like spring, is also a season of transition. It heralds the closing of the year, and thus we become acutely aware of time slipping away. The season becomes one of sadness as we grieve the passing of time, the loss of our youth, the fading of our dreams and hopes, the passing of friends and loved ones. I think it is no coincidence that Samhain, All-Hallows Eve, and Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead), all occur in autumn. Every year we ask ourselves “where has the time gone?”. For better or worse, another year will soon be marked “complete” in our ledger.

For a younger person, this can trigger an existential dread. They may lament “what am I doing with my life?”. I know I used to. Now that I have reached geezer status, that question has been replaced with “I wonder how many more autumns I will be around for?”.

And, of course, we are all too aware that the long cold bleak days of winter are just a few short weeks away.

I know several people who actively detest autumn for these very reasons.

And of joy

Yet autumn is also a season of celebration and for gathering together with our loved ones. We rejoice in the harvest, and its attendant feasts. We revel during Oktoberfest and autumn festivals, pumpkin mazes and Halloween. We huddle together in late November to give Thanks for all our blessings. Many of us who celebrate Christmas like to close out the season by decorating our home in preparation for the first holiday of the winter season.

It truly is a paradoxical season.

There’s also a nostalgia factor about autumn. While I hated returning to school, it was fun to reconnect with friends I hadn’t seen in months. The first Scholastic book catalogs arrived in early fall. Playing football on the weekends. Planning what to be for Halloween. (For younger readers, there weren’t Spirit stores stocked with a plethora of costumes and Halloween decorations available. You either made your own costume, or your folks bought you a cheap, piece of shit costume from a department store that included a stamped plastic mask held on to your head by a rubber band). Going to the pumpkin patch to pick out the perfect gourd to make into a jack-o-lantern. Good times!

If you’re interested, here’s a pretty good explanation for why we feel the way we do about autumn: There’s a Psychological Reason Why We Love Fall So Much (verywellmind.com)

The Grande Finale

Albert Camus stated that “autumn is a second spring, when every leaf is a flower”. For those of us who live in more temperate climes here in the United States, the fall foliage display is nature’s version of a 4th of July fireworks grand finale. This final blaze of glory ends of the growing season with a bang.

I have been blessed enough in this life to have witnessed autumn colors in several iconic places in the US.

From the New England states…

B.F. Clydes cider mill in Mystic, Ct
Sugar Maple in all its glory along the Freedom Trail in Massachusetts

To the mid-Atlantic states…

A blaze of color in front of the Smithsonian, Washington D.C.

To the mid-West…

Image by whisperingwoodsgoods from Pixabay Sorry, I couldn’t find a picture from my visit to Wisconsin. Enjoy this stock photo instead.

To Colorado and the mountain west…

Aspen color in Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado

To my very own backyard.

Native bigtooth maple in the Vintage yard

In the memories of my childhood, it seemed to me back then that the fall foliage display lasted for a long time. This memory is, of course, wrong. The truth is autumn’s grand finale is a rather short-lived spectacle, and always has been. Display length and intensity is totally dependent on the weather. Some years the show can last up to two weeks or more. Other years, an early hard frost or snowstorm can end the display overnight. Or perhaps an autumn gale comes along and strips the trees bare just as they’ve reached peak color.

Heck, just a couple of years ago, we here along Colorado’s Front Range had an unseasonably warm fall. Just as the temperatures finally dropped to the average and the trees started turning colors, a freak snowstorm came through. And that was that. Sorry folks, show’s over until next year.

And when that show is over, all that is left is the bare branches that seem to claw at the chilly sky, grasping for a sunny warmth that is denied them for many months to come. Then we know, really know, that winter is fast approaching.

The eastern, central and northern United States is one of the few places on earth where the growing season goes out with such a glorious blaze of color. For those of us lucky enough to live in such places I think it is important for us to slow down and enjoy the show, however long it might last. As an added bonus, it’s free.

The rejuvenated garden

Come Labor Day, the Vintage garden looks quite worn and threadbare. By late summer the plants have had a very eventful growing season. Late spring snows and freezes, followed by torrential rains, bashing winds and hail in early summer. (We are fortunate to here at the Vintage ranch. The hail we received was small and not too copious. Parts of Colorado got hail so heavy that snowplows had to be utilized to clear streets. Parts of eastern Colorado got hail the size of softballs!).

Once the rains receded, the plants endured weeks and weeks of heat and no appreciable moisture. And through it all were the legion of pests that gnawed and chomped their way through the buffet we so helpfully provided them. Squirrels, rabbits, caterpillars, grubs, leaf miners, aphids, you name it we seemed to have ’em. And the scourge from last year, grasshoppers, returned to wreak havoc of biblical proportions. It’s amazing there’s a garden at all.

But a week or two after Labor Day, something amazing happens. The temperatures moderate, and in some years we get rain (inch and a half last week). The predators have begun laying waste to all the pests. Mosquitos have been absent for weeks.

And the garden begins to recover and look almost as energetic as it did in early June. But this late season flush is different. In late spring and early summer, the plants are just reaching their potential size. That means there is a lot of space between each plant, like soldiers in formation. There is a formality and rigidity to the borders.

By autumn, everything has grown lush. The plants now lean, and sprawl and weave through each other. The garden is more relaxed, and so is the gardener. About the only thing to worry about is trying to get the last tomatoes or peppers to ripen before a cold snap ruins them.

As an added bonus, by this time there are far fewer weeds to deal with.

Thanks to diligent planning (and planting), the Vintage garden shines in late summer and autumn. Asters, goldenrods and sedums are flowering in colors that might have seemed gaudy earlier in the year. But thanks to the softer sunlight, the colors hues cooperate in perfect harmony. Plus, there is an audible quality to these plants; pollinators swarm of the flowers in such numbers that they make the flowers vibrate.

Asters, sedums and ornamental grasses mingle on a chilly autumn morning

Grasses have set their plumes, and parts of the Vintage garden look a little like the prairie that it once used to be. And if the conditions are just right, some of the summer flowering perennials put on a new (albeit more sparsely) flush of blooms.

And some of these plants even put an autumn foliage display of their own. While these plants can’t compete with the giant blowtorch colors of nearby trees, they can add a subtle fire of their own down at eye level. Small shrubs such as viburnums, chokeberries, cotoneaster, and more add to show. Heck, even blue mist spiraea adds a touch of faded yellow to the mix.

The End of the Garden Year. Or is it?

Then comes the day, just like with the trees, when a storm or freeze comes along and ends the gardener year. But is it really? For you see, many gardeners view autumn not as the end, but as the start of the gardening year.

Consider this my friends: in autumn, we rake or mulch the fallen leaves off the grass, to ensure that they don’t matt down and kill the turf. We fertilize the grass with a winterizer in late fall to ensure a lush and healthy lawn come spring.

We cut down spent perennials and annuals that don’t provide winter interest to prevent diseases from overwintering in the old growth. Some veggie gardeners sow a manure crop, one that will slowly grow over the winter, to be turned over in spring to add nutrients to the soil.

We plant spring flowering bulbs in bare spots, so as when the temperatures warm again we will be cheered by their colorful blooms.

We clean, sharpen and oil our tools in preparation for the growing season ahead.

And of course, we intently study garden and seed catalogs over the winter, dreaming and scheming of big plans for the seasons ahead.

So be of good cheer my friends, while your garden (and its gardener) may go into hibernation soon, rest assured that the growing season is but a few short months away.

Posted in Autumn, Gardening, Life, Mental health | Tagged , | Comments Off on Autumn, ’tis a bittersweet season

Anxiety, gardening and the fine art of mindfulness

Posted on September 9, 2023 by John Kevin Hickey
Image by Julita from Pixabay

I recently discussed the various ways I manage my anxiety (see here: Living with anxiety: riding out the storm (mrvintageman.com). One of the best mental health tools at my disposal I have found to be is the practice of mindfulness.

Mindfulness has been all the rage for over the past 10 years or so. And with good reason. Mindfulness is a powerful tool in dealing with mental health issues, including anxiety and depression. It is NOT a cure by any means. But the practice of mindfulness and meditation has been shown to shrink the amygdala, and to weaken the neural pathways to the amygdala.

How I stopped worrying (not really), and learned to love the amygdala

Let me back up here a minute and give a quick overview of the amygdala. The amygdala (plural: amygdalae) are two, almond shaped clusters located deep in the cerebrum. The amygdala is part of the limbic system, and its primary functions are to process information, decision making and emotional responses.

It is also the emergency broadcast system of your brain. (Note: this is an EXTREMELY simplified explanation of the amygdala’s response in regard to anxiety). Say you’re walking along a path and come across a stick that looks like a snake. Or maybe it actually is a snake. Either way, your brain says “whoa, is that a snake”?

Your amygdala’s response is “SNAKE? DID YOU SAY SNAKE??”, and triggers your body’s fight, flight or freeze response. Which, in this particular case is actually a good thing. However, the mind of anxiety sufferers creates all sorts of threatening scenarios, imaginary or otherwise, on a nearly constant basis. Which continuously triggers the amygdala, and this puts the anxiety sufferer in a perpetual state of threat response.

When you put a body part under stress, it adapts by getting stronger. And like a mental bodybuilder, the amygdala responds to constant threats by getting all swole and buff. If the dangers and threats are real, this is a good thing. If the dangers are not real, well, it sucks.

Thus, for anxiety sufferers anything that might actually shrink the amygdala, even just a little, is a net positive.

Image by wal_172619 from Pixabay

Mindfulness and meditation: what’s the difference?

So, what is mindfulness? Simply put, it means being in the moment. You’re not thinking about the past, or the future. You’re in the NOW, man! If you’re eating dinner, then you’re just focused on your food and how it tastes. If you’re working out, then you’re focused on exercising correctly and on how your body is responding. Should you notice intruding negative thoughts, you just let them fade away and get back to focusing on the matter at hand. It’s actually very simple.

Like so many things in life, simple does not mean that it is easy.

Meditation is similar to mindfulness. When you are meditating, you are not focusing on being aware of your surroundings. Instead, you’re focusing on quieting the thinking part of the brain. There are different ways to meditate: focusing on deep breathing or chanting a key word (such as OMM), or perhaps intently focusing on an object. It’s a way of calming the brain. But one does not need to meditate to practice mindfulness.

For a better explanation of the difference between meditation and mindfulness, check out this site: Mindfulness vs. Meditation (verywellmind.com)

I would like to point out that in order for mindfulness to work on anxiety, it must be done on a continual basis. Waiting until an anxiety attack strikes is almost pointless. Just like a muscle, the brain must be strengthened over time to handle stress. You wouldn’t start a workout program the day you’re going to move furniture. Same with mindfulness.

Before there were anti-anxiety medications, therapists, mindfulness…there was gardening.

Once I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder, I learned that I’ve had to deal with an overactive emergency broadcast system my entire life. And over the decades, I have subconsciously found various ways to cope with it. Gardening, it turns out, was one of those coping mechanisms.

MrsVintage and I purchased our house in the early 90s. Shortly after moving in, we became parents. A couple of years later, another child arrived. Meanwhile, I was working a high-paced technical job, both as a civilian and as a member of the Air National Guard, where a mistake could be catastrophic. And, as an added bonus, my parents were getting older and needed my assistance more than before. Much stress!

Needless to say, my amygdala was getting quite a workout.

And then I discovered gardening. I became infatuated. In the words of Cliff Clavin: “there is a fine line between gardening and insanity”. I read books and magazines on the subject. I used to watch ‘Gardening by the Yard’ and ‘Victory Garden’ on the telly. MrsVintage and I visited nurseries and botanical gardens. Meanwhile, we dug all the rock out that lined our property and slowly replaced it with plants.

And so, over the years, a garden came into being.

So, what does that have to do with my anxiety? I find that while I am gardening, I am in a state of mindfulness. I am focused on the weeding and the watering. I observe the successes and failures. I am aware of the heat from the sun on my shoulders, and of the sweat dripping off my nose (hey, I never said everything about gardening is fun). That stupid voice in my head that is constantly trying to draw my attention to some possible catastrophe is surprisingly silent. I am in the Now.

There is a mistaken belief that you need to be seated in the lotus position, with flute music emanating from Spotify on your phone, to be mindful. Not true. You can be quite active and still be in the moment. I suspect that many people who do such hobbies as woodworking, or knitting, or martial arts, or whatever floats their boats, find these activities to be very mindful.

Nature, the all-natural anxiety medication

For me, the there is an added bonus to gardening: I’m outside. I have found over the years that my anxiety recedes quite dramatically in the sunnier months. A large part of that is that the sunlight is much more intense in the summer months, chasing away the winter blues. But it’s more than that. Gardening is a way of immersing oneself in nature. Many studies of been done that show marked improvement in people’s mental health when exposed to nature (Nurtured by nature (apa.org)

As a kid, I used to live outside during the warmer months. Whether it was swimming, biking, hiking, playing streetball (football or baseball on asphalt), climbing trees, or just hanging out, me and my friends were always outside. While my dark brown hair never quite bleached out to blonde, I certainly had blonde highlights by the end of summer. I now understand that it was no coincidence that my anxiety would return with a vengeance when the school year rolled back around. I was trapped inside all day, with nothing but artificial light and sterile walls surrounding me. One of the many reasons I hated school so much.

To this day, being outside in my garden is a natural anti-anxiety and anti-depressant medication for me.

I’ll be the first to admit that a garden is an artificial form of the natural world. Even so, a garden is a form of nature, even if a manmade one. Our minds don’t care whether we are walking through a wild field or a manicured landscape. It’s still nature,

Zen and the Art of Mowing the Lawn

Image by Rudy and Peter Skitterians from Pixabay

Even before I started getting in to gardening, I always enjoyed mowing my lawn. I found it to be a relaxing and contemplative activity. Meditative even. While I am mowing I am mowing, if you know what I mean. I get a great deal of satisfaction after I finish the job. The lawn looks tidy and green. It looks well-maintained. If it weren’t for me, this patch of ground would be nothing more than a weedy patch, choked with bindweed and thistle. I am a mighty deity in my own backyard.

I suspect that this feeling is a faint echo of the satisfaction a farmer must get when he has harvested his field of corn/wheat/whatever. Obviously, we don’t depend on our lawns for our livelihood. But the concept is similar, if you get my drift.

Men take a gentle ribbing for their love of lawn care. Google “men and lawns”, and you’ll find a ton of funny memes. The sports website, Outkick the Coverage, even has a Thursday night lawn mowing competition during the summer. So sure, we can be a bit obsessive.

But you know what? That’s ok. Because in my opinion, the lawn is the American version of a Zen garden.

Peace and tranquility on a 1/4 acre plot

So that is the how and the why I got into gardening. But it is not just the act of gardening that reduces my anxiety. Enjoying the garden is just as rewarding as the doing. Gardeners as a whole are notorious for not being able to see the forest for the trees. Or, put another way, unable to see the garden for the weeds!

A visitor comes around and sees a gardener’s creation, they just take in the beauty of it. They don’t care about the weeds, or the lack of a strong focal point. To the visitor, the garden in a small slice of tranquilty.

The gardener, on the other hand, can ONLY see the sickly plants, the bare spots and weeds galore! That’s why a gardener has a hard time just sitting and enjoying his or her creation. It’s not perfect!

But not me. Oh, I definitely see all that as well. But I also see the wonder I have helped usher into this world. During the growing season I try to get outside every day, even on the hottest days, and just take in all the glory of my little miniature Eden. It never fails to bring me a sense of peace and contentment. The garden is MrsVintage’s and my sanctuary. Our retreat from the outside world. It is amazing how much being out there helps calm my anxiety for a while.

And that is why I am going to keep on gardening until my bones just can’t hack it anymore.

Postscript

Serendipitously, while I was finishing up this post I found this article by someone who also uses gardening to help with anxiety and depression: How Gardening Helped Me Quit My Antidepressant . I think she put into words even better than what I am trying to do with this post.

However, if I were to respond to this person, I would warn her that this newfound love of gardening may not be the total cure she currently thinks it is. When I first started gardening, I too was completely smitten. Gardening is both an art and a skill, and there is so much to learn and do. But like any relationship, the honeymoon phase will end, and this infatuation will fade to a quiet enjoyment. Then gardening will become another (albeit positive) part of her life. The risk becomes that her anxiety and depression might return, and she will get discouraged. It will be important for her to continue to monitor her mental outlook for the rest of her life, gardening or not.

However, I would never say anything to her because she wouldn’t listen to me anyway. After all, who am I? I’m not inside her head. Also, she doesn’t need that kind of “negativity” right now. She’s happy, and that’s all that matters.

Posted in Gardening, Mental health | Tagged | Comments Off on Anxiety, gardening and the fine art of mindfulness