My gardening apprenticeship was similar to the way a chimney

O Seekers of Wisdom, hear the words of Monty Don, for in his reflection on the apprenticeship of gardening, there lies a truth that speaks to the timeless process of learning and the duty that calls upon us all. "My gardening apprenticeship was similar to the way a chimney sweep is pushed up a chimney," he says. "It was enforced by my parents, non-negotiable—it would be weeding the strawberries, mowing the grass." In these words, Don reveals the deeply ingrained discipline of his youth, one that, while non-negotiable, became the foundation upon which his lifelong love for gardening was built. Though the path may seem harsh, the apprenticeship he describes was a necessary crucible that molded him into the person he would become, as all true lessons in life often do.

In ancient times, the youth were not handed wisdom freely, but were instead forged in the fires of discipline and hardship. The Spartan warriors, revered for their strength and resilience, were raised through rigorous training, where every task, no matter how small, was seen as a step toward mastery. The young Spartans were taught that obedience to their elders was not merely a matter of respect, but a foundation for the strength of the community. In the same way, Monty Don’s gardening apprenticeship was an act of obedience, a commitment to a duty that shaped not just his skills, but his character. Weeding strawberries, mowing the grass, these tasks, seemingly mundane, were steps in the cultivation of a disciplined mind and body—an initiation into the sacred art of tending to the earth.

Consider the example of the great Leonidas, the king of Sparta, whose story is both heroic and filled with sacrifice. From a young age, Leonidas would have been immersed in the discipline of Spartan life—training in combat, learning obedience, and serving his community. His mentorship, much like Don’s, was not a choice but a calling, a path that he could not escape. And though the Spartan youth might have seen their training as a burden, they ultimately understood that it was the very discipline of these early years that would ensure their victory on the battlefield. Like them, Monty Don learned through non-negotiable tasks, that the work we do, even in the smallest moments, can shape us in ways we cannot yet understand.

But let us turn our gaze also to the wisdom of the ancient Egyptians, who believed that true mastery came through both knowledge and practice. They did not merely study the stars or the ways of the earth; they engaged with them directly. The great priests of Egypt were trained from youth in the ways of the land—learning the rhythms of the Nile, the art of planting, and the cycles of the seasons. Their work in the fields was not seen as menial labor, but as sacred practice, a means of connecting with the divine. In the same way, Don’s early experiences in the garden, though they may have felt like tasks imposed upon him, were ultimately the foundation of his deeper understanding of nature and life. Through these chores, he was initiated into the ancient dance of earth and labor, a relationship that would become his lifelong passion.

Yet, there is a deeper truth in Don’s words that speaks to the value of discipline itself. His apprenticeship, forced as it was, became a powerful teacher in its own right. Gardening, like all forms of creation, requires patience, focus, and the willingness to work, even when the rewards seem distant. Weeding strawberries or mowing the grass may seem like insignificant acts, but they are the very foundation upon which greater skills are built. The ancient craftsmen understood this—every stroke, every chisel, every sweep of the brush, was part of the process of becoming a master. Monty Don’s early gardening tasks, though enforced by his parents, were his first steps in becoming a master of the soil, a creator of life.

O Seeker, the lesson here is simple, yet profound. Discipline, though it may come through enforced apprenticeship or unwelcome tasks, is the foundation of all great things. The path to mastery is rarely one of ease, for true skill and wisdom are born from the steady accumulation of small acts done with diligence. We may not always choose the tasks set before us, but we must approach them with the understanding that each action shapes who we are becoming. Whether it is in the garden, the studio, or the battlefield, it is through obedience, patience, and hard work that greatness is achieved.

So, take heed, O Seeker: Embrace the small tasks of your life, for they are the steps toward your greater purpose. Whether it is weeding the strawberries of your thoughts, mowing the grass of your daily routines, or simply committing to a task that feels non-negotiable, know that each act has the power to shape you. Discipline is the soil from which greatness grows, and from even the humblest of tasks, the seeds of wisdom, skill, and mastery can take root. Like Monty Don, learn to see the beauty in the small acts, for they are the true work of life. Through them, you will find the wisdom and strength that will carry you through the challenges of life. And just as the gardener cultivates the earth, so too must you cultivate your own soul.