Cultivating wellness: Tending to your garden matters now more than ever

The other day I asked my eight-year-old daughter what she thinks of when she hears the word spring.

“I see green grass with sunlight shining on it,” she answered as her blue-eyes remained focused on her second-grade distance learning assignment.

I smiled because if that isn’t the epitome of spring, I don’t know what is. And as usual in Sonoma County, we have been blessed with gorgeous spring-like weather that hopefully will be followed by weeks of the rain we so desperately need.

This year it’s a bit harder for me to find the sunshine. I’m focused on the lurking shadows with thoughts and fears for the coming months. What does spring mean in 2021? A return to school? Vaccines? Pods? The list goes on. Meanwhile, despite the changes to her life, my daughter still sees hope for growth in the changing season.

An article I read compared parenting over this past winter to the act of bonking during an endurance event. Bonking occurs during a marathon around mile sixteen if you aren’t well fueled – the body just gives up. And let’s face it - most of us are not well-fueled. In fact, I’d argue that generally, we are the textbook definition of depleted. Ask any parent about what they do for self-care these days, and they will probably laugh in your face.

But maybe we need to shift our definition of self-care and stop putting it on a pedestal.

Maslow’s hierarchy of needs tells us that we can’t even begin to address higher-level desires that bring self-confidence and joy to our lives without fulfilling basic needs like safety, shelter, and health. Similarly, without nourishing the foundational aspects of health, it’s challenging to be and feel well.

More than ever, in these weeks leading up to spring we have to find ways to let the sunlight in. Just as we tend to our gardens (and when I say we, I mean all you lovely people with green thumbs because I have a lot to learn), we need to tend to ourselves in the most basic ways so we can grow and thrive in later seasons.

• Eat well. Nutrition can feel complicated, but it doesn’t have to be. Foundational nutrition means cutting back on sugar and processed foods, boosting your intake of plants (ideally local because they are in-season, taste better, and cost less), and eating more fermented foods for your gut health.

• Address Stress. This is a tricky one because I’ve yet to meet anyone who feels that their stress levels are well managed right now. Most of us don’t have the usual go-to’s for stress reduction. So keep it simple. Turning off the news and social media is a good start. Also – when was the last time you paid attention to your breath? Practicing deep, mindful breathing exercises can make a significant impact.

• Work on sleep. Sleep deprivation increases the risks of chronic disease and just makes everything feel harder. While there’s a handful of reasons people struggle with insomnia, the first place to start is to examine your sleep environment. Screen time before bed? Cool environment? Dark room? All of these contribute to your body’s ability to appropriately wind down.

• Move your body. It doesn’t matter if you love walking, running, cycling, swimming, hiking, strength training, yoga; just move your body. It’s a stress buster and mood enhancer, especially in combination with being outside and feeling the sun on your skin.

• Cultivate relationships. I miss my friends. I miss saying hi to other parents every morning while walking to and from the classroom. There’s no easy fix for our lack of social connection right now. But making an effort to talk to neighbors over the fence or say hello to anyone and everyone as I take a walk around the neighborhood helps me feel connected. Zoom happy hours have lost their novelty, but a little in-person contact, even from afar, can be a baby step in the right direction.

This kind of self-care is needed to tend to our internal gardens. Without enriching the soil, how can we expect to grow?

For me, spring reminds me of the cherry blossoms exploding on the tree outside my childhood bedroom window. It’s the daffodils that appear on the side of backroads in unexpected places, a startling pop of yellow against the green. Maybe these grow a few weeks before the calendar calls for the official beginning of spring, but they are a sign that things are shifting. Hopefully, the sunlight will be shining on us all a bit more in the not-too-distant future.