Cut the Edge, Turn the Soil: Gardening as a Blueprint for a Braver Life

There’s something sacred about starting a new garden.  You stand there, shovel in hand, staring down a patch of ground that doesn’t yet know it’s about to bloom.  The first cut, edging the shape of what’s to come, feels like drawing a boundary not just in soil, but in life.  This is mine.  This is where I grow.

Let me tell you, edging isn’t glamorous.  It’s stubborn grass and tangled roots.  It’s sunburned necks and blisters that remind you how soft your hands were before you got serious about growing something real.  Though, without that edge, the garden doesn’t hold.  It spills.  It forgets its shape.  And don’t we all, when we don’t set our edges?

Then comes the tilling.  Turning what’s been packed down, ignored, walked on.  The soil’s got a memory.  It remembers the seasons it didn’t get what it needed.  And life?  Same.  When you dig into old pain, old patterns, old beliefs, it stirs stuff up.  It can feel messy.  Ugly even.  And that’s the work.  That’s how oxygen gets in.

I till deep.  I till with my back (stupid, I know) and with my heart.  Because breaking up what’s hardened is the only way to plant something new.

And when you’re sweating through it, wishing you had a tractor or just a second wind, something wild happens: you remember why you’re doing it.  You picture the beans your kid will pick, barefoot and giggling.  The tomatoes that’ll never make it to the kitchen because they taste better sun-warmed and stolen.

That garden becomes more than a space.  It becomes a story.  One you write with effort and intention.  One you harvest with pride.

So, if life’s feeling a little overgrown or packed too tight, maybe it’s time to edge out some space just for you.  Maybe it’s time to till.  Get messy.  Make way.

Because darling, nothing grows if you don’t break some ground first! 🥰