A recent post on a garden writers listserv asked people to weigh in on an article about statements made by the Royal Horticultural Society’s new president. It seems she thinks that the BBC is “dumbing down” their garden programs, and she wants it to stop.

While most of us on the listserv don’t watch the BBC, we are garden communicators and have strong opinions about our profession. Miriam Young, whose website Plant Concierge is dedicated to bridging the gap between those who understand gardening and those who don’t, said that “Gardening terminology, Latin names and minutia details about plants are a complete turn-off for the general population.”

I experienced this reaction last week during the garden tour; people would ask what a plant was, and when I gave them a botanic name they’d wrinkle their nose instead of writing it down. Virginia garden writer Donna Williamson thinks the problem goes beyond botanic names. “I think we focus on the difficulty of Latin, and forget that people don’t know real basic gardening,” she wrote. Perhaps it’s a bit of both.

While pondering this discussion I read Seth Godin’s blog of the day, “Betting on Smarter (or Betting on Dumber)” His point is that marketers have a choice, and he thinks the majority chose not to educate the consumer but to keep them easy to manipulate. This got me thinking: What role do garden product marketers and plant breeders play in the dumbing down of gardeners and garden communications?

Are they working to make the general gardening public smart or keep them stupid?  I recently got a sample of a product, and the PR person who sent it to me asked me twice if I’d received it, used it and liked it. When I responded that I couldn’t figure out from the label just what the stuff is made of, and could she help with that, there was no response.  It could have slipped through the cracks, or there might be a reason that the manufacturer/marketer doesn’t want me informed.

I know that as a garden writer/speaker/radio host, I need to take my readers/audiences down a path that is informative and entertaining. If they don’t have fun listening or reading about plants and gardening, why would they think that they might enjoy actually doing it? For me, this means being honest, funny and from-the-heart. Am I dumbing down by using the common name (if there is one) first, but using the botanic name in all articles and handouts?

The larger issue here is that each of us, gardeners and non, need to realize is that as consumers it doesn’t seem to always be in the manufacturers/marketers agenda to keep us informed.

The shampoo companies aren’t going to tell you that it isn’t necessary to “rinse and repeat” and the plant food companies won’t tell you that not every plant needs fertilizer. They want to sell more of their product.

Seth ends his blog by saying, “…the inevitability of information spreading works in favor of those that bet on it.”

I hope he’s right, but in the end we’re all challenged to work/buy/live more thoughtfully.

There is a point when too much information might be a bad thing. If the garden center that planted this raised bed display garden put a list of all the possible problems those young lettuce plants might have, no one would want to try growing their own salad greens! The success of these plants, however, (and they did grow well) showed their customers that it is possible to grow a great deal of lettuce - and lavender, strawberries, cabbage, and herbs - in a small area.

My blogging friend John, over at John and Liza’s Garden, has recently had an episode with his heart. He says he needs to “slow down” and let the younger generation do the heavy work.

That’s fine, but I encouraged him to get out in the garden and savor what is there, and what he can do. We don’t have to push so much, perhaps, but doing what we’re able to accomplish, and doing that with complete focus and appreciation, is very satisfying and healing.

When we can focus on truly being present in the landscape, we realize that the garden, just as it is this moment, is very life affirming.  Although as I get ready for the tour next week, and am scrambling to get things done, I do have to remind myself again and again to slow down and drink it all in already!

We can use anything as a wake up call to pay attention, and everything as an occasion to feel grateful for life.

I hate to admit this, but Laura Schlessinger was in my head as I gardened today. I heard her radio program a few years ago and she was saying something about the best attitude being gratitude. As I weeded and planted, and tried not to be overwhelmed with all that needs to be done in the landscape and other areas of my life, I recalled this program.

Everything is connected, I’ve often said….but yikes! I’m connected to an archconservative who has opinions that I totally abhor? Truly, truly, God works in mysterious ways.

As I weeded and planted, and picked the first of the peas, it was easy to feel grateful even though there is so much to be done. I was surrounded by the abundance of the garden, and fortunately I could tune into that. As the memory of Laura Schlessinger’s program ran through my thoughts, I also appreciated how all of our connections bind even those plants, people and politics that on the surface, perhaps, we’d rather not be liked to.

Just as it’s important to realize that we’re connected to the weeds and insects in the garden, it’s significant that we realize the value of our links to those whose beliefs and politics differ from our own.

If we weren’t united in any way, life would be so much more chaotic and painful.

The garden is full of beauty and sustenance, as well as problems and pests. As I cultivate the former, I learn to live with the latter.  In my life it’s possible to hold those things I love and am grateful for, along with the difficulties, dislikes and challenges….or conservative radio personalities.

We cultivate life in all its fullness.

The peas have started to produce! I'm so very fortunate. "Thank you," I say as I pick dinner, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

It was a long day, but I was blessed to come home to my garden. After hosting GardenLine and working at the garden center, I was very tired when I pulled in the driveway at 5 PM. But a stroll around Poison Ivy Acres, setting up a sprinkler here, and giving a few new plantings a squirt of water there, was completely rejuvenating.

Yes, I’d spent much of the day watering, organizing, and helping other people with their plant choices. And yes, I came home to more watering and plant chores…but because the garden is where my heart is, these tasks are life-affirming instead of more-of-the-same.

We all need a garden to come home to. It doesn’t have to be plants growing in a landscape, of course, but it does need to be a place that feeds our souls. If we are able to return to a dwelling where we’re able to grow, then we’ll be refreshed and revitalized.

What type of landscape – actual or metaphorical – invigorates you? Are you cultivating the garden that lifts your heart when you come home?

Walking through the gardens, noticing how the plants are growing and what varieties are getting ready to bloom is calming. Pulling the weeds I come upon, without pressure to do more, is satisfying and productive. I'm blessed to come home to a garden.

Are the connections we make with other people what makes our work meaningful? Are the ways our gardens allow us to touch each other significant?

I was at a speakers’ forum today and friend and fellow speaker Rich Pomerantz said that as he sat at his table someone from he’d met in the past approached him.

It turns out that he used this woman and her mother as subjects to demonstrate portrait photography at a workshop he was teaching some years ago. Today the woman told him that a few months after he shot the picture her mother died, and that the photograph he took on the spur of the moment ended up being so important to her and her sister.

“This is why I do what I do,” Rich said to me, after relating this story.

Driving home, I thought about how Rich is onto something here. When I speak or host GardenLine, I reflected, it might just be about assisting someone to grow an organic lawn or plant the right perennial. These interactions are pleasant enough, and I’m pleased I can help. Occasionally, however, a reader or listener will let me know that I’ve supported them in ways far more important than the health of their landscape. When it’s about plants and our whole lives, that’s when it’s most satisfying.

Sometimes the work we do is interesting, other times it’s challenging or grueling, and often it’s just work. But when that work links us in fundamental, human ways, that’s when we’re truly blessed. When we can touch each other’s hearts, we know why we do the work we do.

On a recent garden writer’s listserv, the topic that generated a great deal of discussion carried the subject line, “Is Gardening Too Complicated?” The premise the author presented asked if garden writers, with their you-need-to-do-this-but-by-all-means-don’t-consider-that writing might actually be discouraging people from gardening.

I responded to this in another post here, but was reminded of the “Is Gardening Too Complicated?” topic when I read Seth Godin’s blog post titled Failure, success and neither. He said, “The math is magical: you can pile up lots of failures and still keep rolling, but you only need one juicy success to build a career.” And I thought, “So it is in the garden.”

The math in our landscapes is also magical. We can plant numerous shrubs and perennial that die, but success with one spectacular plant compensates for all failures, and we go on as gardeners.

Seth goes on to say “If you spend your days avoiding failure by doing not much worth criticizing, you’ll never have a shot at success. Avoiding the thing that’s easy to survive keeps you from encountering the very thing you’re after.”

Exactly! If we think that gardening is too complicated, and we avoid doing anything because we’re worried that what we do might be wrong, or our plants may die, we deny ourselves the pleasures, the benefits, and the beauty of the landscape that does endure.

In the garden, and all of life, it’s a matter of plunging in. We can fly by the seat of our pants, or do some reading and research, but at the end of the day it’s all a matter of being willing to pile up the failures and relish in the successes.

A side note, here, off the topic but nevertheless on my mind: Several of you have approached me over the past few months, in person or by email, to say that you begin your day by reading this blog. I cannot fully express how much this touches my heart and how pleased I am that you are with me, here on this blog and in spirit. I often write that everything is connected to everything else, and I am strengthened and grateful to know that I’m linked to you.

When we try and grow plants that are not hardy where we live, there is always the chance that we'll fail. This epiphyllum is a tropical plant, and I never know if it will bloom or not. But when it flowers, the few blossoms that appear are worth the years of no bloom that come before.

I have to get this posted fairly quickly, because in thirty minutes it will be Earth Hour, and I will turn off my laptop and all of the lights in the house. My husband jokingly asked if we could use our computers on battery, and I shook my head. We’ll light candles and enjoy each other’s company, forgoing anything that requires power for at least one hour.

The theme of this day for me is personal action, it seems. I rehearsed with the WomanSpirit group from my church this afternoon, as we prepared the service for tomorrow. We are honoring Carolyn McDade, composter of two of my favorite hymns. She might not call them hymns, but I do since there is something holy about Spirit of Life and We’ll Build A Land.

These two events, Earth Hour and the service celebrating Carolyn McDade come together with gardening I think. When we garden, we do what we can. The weather is out of our control, weed seeds lay dormant, waiting to sprout for over fifty years, and our type of soil may not support the plants we want to grow. Still, we cope with that which we have no power over, and we cultivate to our best abilities.

I don’t have the capability to reverse global warming quickly, but I can turn my lights out for an hour tonight. In doing so, I connect with others around the world (think of that, around the world!) who also deeply care about the future of this blue planet.

Reversing injustice is beyond my personal jurisdiction, but I can gather with others to affirm and celebrate justice through prayer and song. And in the garden I can make good choices, forgoing products that harm wildlife or work against natural processes. In this I join with gardeners throughout history and the world, as we unite to cherish the land.

We may not have the power to instantly reverse environmental damage or other wrongs, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t have the responsibility to do what we can. We are gardeners, and we can always plant wisely.

I was going to write about the Boston Flower Show today, but something much, much more important has come up. Someone I am friends with on facebook was put out yesterday when I posted a smartass comment about the Republicans, with a link to a Huffington Post article. She would rather see posts about gardening, she said, than feel alienated by my political distain.

I know just how this facebook friend feels. I have other connections on this social networking site whose conservative politics make me cringe. Worse are the angry, hate-filled comments their posts elicit, which cause me to worry about the sanity of my fellow citizens. Sometimes I write a response, but often I roll my eyes and move on. I do, however, find ways to tell these friends about the ways I value them beyond politics. Staying connected is important.

This goes far beyond gardening. As I thought about this blog entry I knew I could begin by talking about how I would never put some plants in my garden that you might love in yours. For example, a caller to GardenLine recently mentioned how lily of the valley was a great groundcover for shade. I said that I hate lily of the valley because it takes over and looks like hell from July on. There was lily of the valley at Poison Ivy Acres when we moved here, and it was one of the first things I ripped out.

We have different preferences and beliefs that reach far beyond which plants we choose for our landscapes. This is an important issue because it speaks to the future of the entire world.

We need to find a way to live with each other. We have to be able to be neighbors, fellow countrymen and world citizens even if we have different political or religious views. End of story…or it will be the end of us.

I may not love or write about the plants or politics you think highly of, but we can still embrace the fact that we’re growing our lives together here on the third planet from the sun. We can move way beyond your love of lily of the valley and my disgust with the Republican Party, and find all of the other ways we connect. A peaceful world depends on it.

Tomorrow, the Boston Flower Show, I promise.

Today as I walked the flower show with Lynn Felici-Gallant, of www.indigogardensllc.com, she loved the displays with moss and stone. I merely liked them. As the Paul Simon song goes, "One man's ceiling is another man's floor." In the flower show, the garden, religion and politics this is so true.

At a recent talk I showed an image of Dave and Judy Roger’s garden. With a business name of Art In Green, you know that their property will be beautiful and it is. Much of it is also very low-maintenance because the plantings are so think that the weeds can’t compete.

This is something I’m striving for at Poison Ivy Acres. Because of financial limitations, I can’t afford to plant the entire property in a couple of seasons. So for now I make due with small plants, mulch, and planting bit by bit. Eventually, my gardens will be planted so densely that the weeds can’t get through.

As I think about this, I wonder what the equivalent strategy is in life? How do we plant so thickly in our lives so that the unwanted can’t make inroads? Some things that are unwelcome in life always find a way, of course. People get laid off from jobs, become sick or die and there is no way around it. To be living means that unpleasant things will happen.

What about those “weeds” we can control? What can we plant more closely to discourage the disagreeable? Boredom isn’t welcome, to propose just one example, and that can be kept at bay by many desirable activities. No matter where we live or what talents we have, there are numerous volunteer opportunities where our time and skills will be valued.

Can we put our time and attention into wise planting, so that what’s unwanted doesn’t even germinate? In the garden, weed control is pretty straightforward: plant lushly, mulch, and hand-pull. Is it the same in our lives?

Dave and Judy Rogers have planted a lovely garden, and I am blessed to know them.

I raked, weeded and trimmed down perennial beds today, and was always alert for a subject to write about. As I’ve said before, one of the gifts of daily blogging is the need to my antennae up at all times.

1. In the garden and a blog, you never know what will come up. Be they cherished subjects or plants, they might appear or be totally elusive. You can’t be sure what will germinate, so you need to have open eyes and minds.
2. Each of these activities will connect you to people. Thankfully, blessedly, new people will come into your life because you are gardening or blogging.
3. Gardens and blogs require discipline and time. You need to be committed to get out there, so you can be weeding and writing.

I’m grateful for all of this. I cherish surprises and regulation. Most of all, I’m thankful for all of you delightful, interesting people that I’m connected to through this blog. We are graced from this web of connectedness.

All of the grasses in my gardens needed to be cut down this weekend, and I'm pleased to say that I got this done. Sometimes just meeting a deadline is satisfying.