Legacy of books and compost

I adore the feel of rich compost in my hands and feet. Gardening in flip flops beckons as the spring warms up. Living here with light sandy soil means I’m constantly improving that quality and gathering every scrap of fruit and vegetable skins, dead flowers and leaves into buckets by the back door.

I also love books and magazines, reading as much as I can to improve the depth of my own writing. This week a friend recycled a feminist title from 1985 called ‘The Dance of Anger’ by Harriet Goldhor Lerner. The author invites us to examine family patterns of behaviour going back through the generations.

Looking at my own family and friendships, I’m connected to women who find a common language through their gardens, giving and gaining pleasure from this space. I’m also mindful how the women in my life have shaped my own beliefs and behaviours, and the values I am passing on to my own daughters as they fly the family home.

Although, Lerner’s book says it’s a woman’s guide, there’s plenty in her stories of value for the men in my life. In my corporate coaching, for example, I always hear the stories of a father’s words to his son played out in another way. The frustrations of a manager with his colleagues so often stem from the family relationships. Our behaviour has deep rooted experiences.

Like a fluent writer, an enthusiastic gardener creates a legacy for the future generation to build on. Today’s fuchsia rhododendron breaking into flower owes its space here in my garden to an adventurous plant hunter travelling in the 1800s.

Yesterday’s rain combined with this morning’s sun loosens the soil for me to grab the emerging bindweed before it strangles the spinach and rocket seedlings in the veg patch. Yesterday’s apple cores and red pepper seeds will provide the compost to nurture the next generation.