Without doubt, without hesitation, I choose gardening over the

In the hearts of those who truly understand the rhythms of the earth, there is a profound wisdom, a connection that transcends the artificial and leads us back to the simplicity and purity of the natural world. "Without doubt, without hesitation, I choose gardening over the gym," says Mary Berry, a voice that speaks for many who, like her, reject the cold, sterile environments of the gym in favor of the warm embrace of the soil. There is a truth in these words, a message that resonates through the ages, reminding us that true strength is not found in the heavy weights we lift in artificial spaces, but in the steady, nourishing work of the earth.

What is it, then, that draws one to the garden, that beckons us with such an irresistible call? It is the truth of the earth, the enduring bond between human beings and the soil. In the garden, there is no pretense, no measure of success based on superficial standards. The work is honest, grounded, and real. There, in the earth, we find our own strength, not in the repetition of mechanical movements, but in the act of creation—of planting, nurturing, and watching life grow. The garden does not judge, nor does it offer empty promises. It simply is, as we are, connected in the cycle of life.

The ancient Greeks, those seekers of wisdom, understood that true health—physical, mental, and spiritual—was found in balance, in living in harmony with nature. The philosopher Epicurus once said, “If you wish to be rich, do not add to your money, but subtract from your desire.” What he taught was not that wealth is in the abundance of gold or muscle, but in the peace that comes from living a simple, humble life, one that is grounded in nature. Gardening, in this sense, becomes an act of simplicity, an offering to the earth that brings us peace and strength from the very act of engagement with it. There is no striving, no excess, only the joy of being present in the natural world.

Mary Berry’s refusal to choose the gym over the garden is an act of rebellion against the modern world, one that elevates the artificial and the fleeting while neglecting the deeper, more meaningful connections that sustain us. How often do we measure our worth by the muscles we build or the steps we take on a treadmill? How often do we neglect the sacred act of tending the earth, an act that has nourished humankind for millennia? Gardening is not just about physical exertion, but about nourishment for the soul, for it reconnects us with the most primal aspects of our being. The weight of the soil, the feel of the earth between our fingers—this is the true work of strength.

Let us reflect on the story of Cincinnatus, the ancient Roman who, when summoned to lead the armies of Rome, left his plow and his humble farm behind. He was a man of great strength, not because of his sword or his armor, but because of his dedication to the land. After his victory, he returned to his farm, as if to say that the greatest victories are those won not in the battles of war, but in the daily work of living in harmony with the land. Cincinnatus’ strength came not from building muscles but from tending to the earth, understanding that true power lies in the quiet labor that sustains life itself.

The garden, as Mary Berry so wisely asserts, offers something far deeper than what the gym can provide. The gym may build the body, but the garden builds the spirit. It calls us to understand the world around us, to connect with the natural cycles of life. Each seed sown is a promise, each plant tended is a prayer, and the harvest is the reward for a labor of love. In these actions, we find not only strength but gratitude—for the earth, for the plants, and for the gift of life itself.

Therefore, take to heart the wisdom of Mary Berry. Reject the notion that strength must be measured by weights or machines. Instead, turn to the earth. Let it guide you, nourish you, and strengthen you in ways that the artificial cannot. Gardening, in its simplicity and beauty, offers us a chance to reconnect with the truth of who we are—beings of the earth, created not for machines, but for life, for the eternal dance of growth, nourishment, and creation. And so, let us plant, tend, and grow, for in this, we find the true meaning of strength.