The following is a real-life, unsolicited, unfabricated
email to me from a friend from Raleigh who visited me for a weekend last fall:
"I felt so great
when I woke up on Monday. I really do think it's because I ate so much healthy
food at your house! But I started thinking about it and I was like, well, my
diet is generally not that horrible. I could do better about not eating frozen
dinners at lunch but I do I try to add in veggies and then I usually eat two
veggies with some protein for dinner. I think it might have something to
do with the quality of the food from your garden. What do you think? This could
be the topic for an article!
Other than growing my
own vegetables, which I don't currently see happening right now with our little
plot of shady, wet earth, what do you recommend for getting higher quality
vegetables? I'm not even sure that buying at the farmer's market really changes
anything. Definitely eating organic, which we generally do. Any other suggestions?
Any vitamins/minerals you could recommend?
--Christine"
I decided to take Christine up on her idea to write about
this subject mainly because her words are so similar to what I hear from other
visitors. Friends who have a far less healthy diet than Christine and are
hesitant to try unfamiliar vegetables are amazed how good my food tastes. They
also tell me how well they sleep at my house and how revived they feel after
visits. So I've developed several theories about why their bodies respond so
favorably.
So much butternut squash grew last fall that they won't all be eaten until this summer. Photo by Vickie Burick |
I'm a fairly simple cook. So when visitors rave about the
taste of my dishes, I assume they are actually complimenting my gardening
talent rather than my cooking skills. Moreover, they are reacting to the taste
of fresh produce straight out of the garden. I usually harvest my vegetables
just before I start cooking (or even while
I'm cooking). Often people assume they don't like a particular vegetable, but
then they eat that same vegetable freshly picked and garden-grown and their
opinion entirely changes.
I've discussed in previous
articles some reasons for the abundant flavor of garden fare. But why would
Christine and others feel better after
eating my food for a weekend?
One theory is that garden fare tends to have more nutrients
than store-bought vegetables grown on a large scale. It has been shown that the
nutrient content of food today is much lower than it was 50-plus years ago. An
often-cited 2004 University of Texas study, headed by biochemist Donald Davis,
Ph.D., analyzed 43 common fruits and vegetables and found that six out of 13
nutrients showed declines between 1950 and 1999.
A hypothesis for why modern-day vegetables have fewer
nutrients is their altered genetics. As varieties are continually bred and
selected for traits desirable for mass production, they lose some of the
nutritional content that is in older heirloom varieties. We are more likely to
grow these heirlooms in our home gardens.
I would also add: it's easier to gain a higher nutrient
content in the home garden if we use sustainable gardening techniques. My style
of Microbe Rich ("M R") no-till
gardening encourages a healthy soil ecosystem with a large population of
beneficial microorganisms. These break down the abundant mineral content in the
red Appalachian clay into a form that the plants can uptake. Those minerals
help the plants grow healthy and feed the fruits, which then feed our bodies.
Now, I've never run scientific tests to compare the nutrient
level of my vegetables to store-bought, but I consistently recognize a
difference in their energetics. In late winter, after I've given up on growing
greens under plastic tunnels and started supplementing my diet with produce
from the grocery, I can tell the difference in my energy. I start craving my
own fresh vegetables. As soon as my garden picks up in spring, I feel more like
myself.
Fresh spring lettuce at M R Gardens. Photo by Vickie Burick. |
Which brings me to another theory to why Christine
experienced a lift after eating my food—she was benefiting from the energetics
of gardening and from the essence of the plants themselves.
I'm usually hesitant to write about such topics because I
don't want to turn away left-brained thinkers who might raise an eyebrow at the
idea of "plant energy." Besides, as soon as I declare a theory that
seems specifically true to me as true for everyone, life events remind me that
there are infinite ways of experiencing the world. Almost guaranteed, as soon
as I publish this, life will present to me an alternative theory.
However, a class that I'm taking at the Appalachian School
of Holistic Herbalism, "Energetic and Esoteric Herbalism," is helping
me gain confidence in sharing bits of inner wisdom, which may not be so easily
proven. So here goes: I agree with herbalists who say we are affected by the
essence of plants just by being around them. We don't have to ingest them to
benefit from them. And I'll go a step further and say the energy we give to the
plants while growing them affects the food itself.
In the growing season, medicinal herbs surround my house. As
Christine walked to my front door, she passed tulsi, ashwagandha, valerian,
chamomile, lavender, Echinacea, lovage, fennel, calendula and mint. According
to many herbalists, Christine would feel the healing effects of these plants
just by staying at my house.
Front yard at M R Gardens. Photo by Vickie Burick. |
I also think the essence that I carry while I garden is more
therapeutic than say an overworked, underpaid farmworker or even a
stressed-out, overly busy small organic farmer. Gardening gives so much to me.
Whoever eats my produce will likely taste a hint of that experience. When
herbalists make a tincture or essential oil, they are conscious of their
intentions: they carry a nurturing air that they hope will transfer to the
medicine. Couldn't the same be said about how we garden?
So, if my theory is true, what can Christine do at her own
house to help her wake up every morning feeling great?
She mentions that she has limited growing space, but in fact
she has more room than she realizes. She has an open front lawn with ample
sunlight—enough space to grow most of the vegetables she and her husband need.
We often don't think of our front yard as the place for a food garden, but with
the help of an edible
landscape designer, these gardens can be aesthetically pleasing, blending with
the rest of the neighborhood.
If she can't arrange her schedule to keep up with a
vegetable garden, she could certainly plant low-maintenance perennial medicinal
herbs that might help improve her wellbeing.
Perhaps most importantly is the energy she is giving and
receiving while gardening. It's all about the mindset. I'm not suggesting she
has to be in a perky mood while out in the yard. In fact, to quote my
acupuncturist, "the earth likes to take our pain." That statement
makes sense to me as the garden thrives on decaying organic matter (just as my
kitty loves to knead near my heart when I'm feeling blue).
New England Aster at M R Gardens, Photo by Vickie Burick. |
Christine just needs to allow for a therapeutic experience
to take place while she is gardening. She is appreciating her time outdoors in
the sunshine, allowing herself to be open to her intuition so that she that she
can receive the healing power of the plants. As she gains more experience
gardening, she'll naturally pick activities that suit her mood. So if she is
feeling nurturing, then she might transplant or seed. If she's rambunctious,
she might mulch. If she needs to think through a problem, she might choose to
weed. Sure, the physical activity and the sunshine are boosting her mood, but I
think something else that's less easy to detect is going on as well.
Later, when she goes to cut the herb to put in her tea, she
might regain the benefits of that energetic exchange.
There could have been a number of reasons why Christine felt
revived after her trip to Asheville. Perhaps it was the mountain air. Or a
little time away from work. Or good conversation with a long-time friend.
But after spending so much time with plants, I'm convinced
they are healing us in ways we are barely aware of.