Growing tomatoes in a global pandemic
By: Siham Arieff
Tags: Mental Health, Farming, Spirituality, How To, Covid 19

Photo by Markus Spiske

Biophilia: the idea that human beings possess an innate tendency to seek connection with nature and other life forms. Dr. Edward O. Wilson

I had never come across the term biophilia. It was only recently in my work, when proofreading a document relating a property development, I came across it in great detail. A developer described how they would be trying to mimic the natural outdoor environment inside a new apartment block development. I suddenly realized this, biophilia, was something I had found to be true in my own life. I have always found comfort in forests and oceans and even deserts, when I lived in the Middle East for 8 years. And for many years, I wanted to grow tomatoes and have a vegetable garden.

I bought books about gardening. I watched YouTube videos, and I thoroughly enjoyed watching those YouTube gardeners find fruits, accidentally, under lush green vegetation in their back yards. They made it look so simple, and I was amazed. But, I never attempted it. I just had these aspirations of having my own little tomato orchard, like Marlon Brando in The Godfather; but perhaps it was my fear of not actually having “green fingers” that stopped me.

Then one day I decided to try it. I glanced at my Janes Delicious Garden gardening book, which I had bought ten years ago, and instead of opening it up to read (again), I just went outside and decided to get my actual hands dirty. What caused me to take action? COVID. A global pandemic forced me to stay home, isolate, recalibrate, and eventually experiment with my lifelong, quiet dream.

The months, years of digital distraction (and mindless scrolling) left me empty, when the entire world was in chaos, and when it was the only option available to interact. I somehow, naturally, disconnected from the cold digital world and reconnected with the outdoors; and I started a vegetable garden. One year later, I am still growing food and I eat something from my vegetable garden practically every single day.

Rainbows and butterflies

Besides the (actual) fruits of your labor (there is also actual physical labor of digging and squatting involved in gardening, I did not realize), I was rewarded every morning, with the quiet, calming morning garden sounds and sights. A mix of greens from all the different leaves and colors popping up from flowers beginning to bloom. Each morning, as I watered my plants and seedlings, I would watch the water droplets fall softly onto the leaves and gently drip off onto the soil, turning it muddy brown. It was like having my own little private jungle.

As the sun comes up, it hits the spray of the water and the reflection causes little rainbows across the garden as you sway your arm watering across the area. It’s quite wonderful, spiritual actually, to be outside feeling the sun’s rays and catching glimpses of rainbows every morning. It was so beautiful and unexpected; and I found myself looking forward to my morning watering session as a new, soothing, mental health ritual.

This entire, seemingly romantic, affair with tomatoes and my vegetable garden really gave me perspective during the pandemic. Besides giving me incredible homegrown, organic food to eat, it taught me to slow down, have patience as things progress naturally and beautifully, at their own pace. I appreciated being part of this lifecycle of the plants and the ecosystem of birds (feeding on my strawberries) and bees coming to pollinate the vegetables. As I watched the butterflies flutter around, I realized that they had been the caterpillars who were munching on my radish leaves. I became acutely aware that we humans, need to connect with nature and the earth to calm our souls and give us insight into how we can navigate through our challenges. I accepted the reality of the pandemic, the dramatic change to our world, and felt hopeful that this initial struggle was a stage of growth. We would find our way out of this dark, unfamiliar place and find our new wings to fly in the sunshine again.