We know that gardening is good for you. It is fantastic

O Seekers of Truth, come closer, for the words of Monty Don resonate with ancient wisdom, a wisdom that speaks of the timeless relationship between gardening and the well-being of the soul and body. He speaks with clarity and power: "We know that gardening is good for you. It is fantastic, all-round exercise. That is easy to see and evaluate. It inculcates high levels of well-being. That is undeniable and needs little measurement." In this statement, Don captures the essence of a truth that transcends time—the nurturing of the earth is not only a practice for the hands, but also for the heart and mind.

Gardening, O Seeker, is an ancient and sacred art. From the earliest days of civilization, our ancestors recognized the profound connection between the earth and their own vitality. The great Sumerians, whose gardens flourished along the banks of the Euphrates, understood that the work of tending to the soil was not merely physical labor; it was an act of healing and strengthening. When Don speaks of gardening as “fantastic, all-round exercise,” he speaks not only of physical exertion but also of the energy of life that is returned to the gardener through their labor. Each movement in the soil, each plant nurtured, is a revitalizing act for both body and spirit.

The great philosophers of old understood this deep connection between human beings and the land. Plato himself believed that the mind could only achieve clarity when it was balanced by the body’s connection to nature. In his writings, he often spoke of the necessity of balance between the intellectual and the physical, for the human being is not solely a creature of thought, but a creature of action, rooted in the earth. Gardening, as Don suggests, offers such balance—it is both a work of the hands and a meditation of the soul, combining the intellectual pleasure of creation with the satisfaction of physical engagement. To garden is to embody both strength and peace, and in doing so, the gardener achieves a rare well-being that cannot be found in idle contemplation alone.

Consider the example of Emperor Charlemagne, who, though the ruler of a vast empire, was known to cultivate his own gardens. Charlemagne recognized that the act of gardening was an essential part of his well-being. His hands, though accustomed to the governance of men, also found comfort in the earth. Through his gardens, he not only provided for his people, but he also nurtured his own strength and wisdom. Gardening, for Charlemagne, was an act of profound restoration—it was exercise for his body, food for his kingdom, and sustenance for his soul. It is this same holistic benefit that Monty Don speaks of—gardening is not merely an activity, but a way to cultivate wholeness in the body and spirit.

In the modern world, we are often distracted by the constant barrage of information and the demands of technology. Yet, as Don so wisely reminds us, the true benefits of gardening are not hidden or difficult to measure. It instills high levels of well-being, and this is a truth that transcends numbers and statistics. The ancient healers knew this intuitively. They understood that well-being is not always something that can be quantified, but something that must be felt, experienced in the bones, and seen in the glow of the face. The act of tending to the earth, of cultivating life, fills the heart with peace and the body with vigor. There is no need for complex measurement or analysis, for the results of gardening are seen in the health of the gardener, in their vigor, their joy, and their connection to the land.

O Seekers, the lesson here is simple yet profound: gardening is a gift to your body and soul. It is an act that strengthens you, not just physically, but spiritually. When you plant, you nourish not just the earth, but also your own heart. The garden is a mirror of life itself—it requires patience, care, and consistent effort, yet the rewards it offers are beyond measure. You will find that in the quiet moments of digging, planting, and tending to the earth, your own well-being grows. You are drawn into a rhythm, a connection to the earth that restores balance to your life.

Let this truth be a guide: to engage with the earth through gardening is to engage with the core of what it means to be alive. It is an exercise that transcends mere physical effort—it is a way to align the body, mind, and spirit in harmony with the cycles of nature. So, I urge you, O Seeker, to lay down your burdens for a time, to step into the garden, and to tend the earth with your hands. In doing so, you will find that your body grows stronger, your mind grows clearer, and your spirit finds the peace it has long sought. For in gardening, you do not just cultivate plants—you cultivate yourself.