Gardening as a metaphor for the Drive for Perfection
We’re currently going into spring. One of the things that I love about this season is gardening. Taking the time to cultivate a garden, whether that’s full of edibles or gorgeous flowers or both. There is something to me that’s very nice and cozy about a gardening space.
You might be wondering how all of this relates to the typical blogs you see on my page regarding anxiety, couples, and brainspotting, so I’m going to tell you. I noticed as I was walking around this garden that had weeds in it. There were dandelions and little purple flowers and I noticed for myself the loveliness of a garden with weeds.
Obviously, this is not the typical garden we think about. When people picture a garden or a nice lawn, it’s often something immaculate, perfectly manicured. Almost like it came out of a painting instead of being part of nature. And yet nature is wild and unpredictable. It got me thinking about the tension between keeping a garden and seeking perfection.
Perfection is often something we strive for, whether intentionally or not. This is especially true for those of us who carry more anxiety, where perfection feels like a way of protecting ourselves from criticism. If we’re getting it right, maybe we won’t get hurt. That drive for rightness becomes a shield against a world that can feel sharp. So I wanted to consider what if having a garden got to be something delightful instead of something to get right.
Anxiety’s Voice in the Garden
It’s very exciting as the weather starts to get warmer to start planning and idealizing what a garden could look like. How it could be, what you’ll grow, how it will look. The list goes on and on. Anxiety often sneaks in here. Suddenly, the garden becomes about choosing the right colors, picking a theme, deciding on décor, debating mulch versus pebbles. And it stops feeling restorative. It becomes pressure.
You might start overthinking everything or even feel the need for other people’s validation. It’s normal to want to create something beautiful. But in the process, perfection can take over. It becomes a performance. By trying to get things just right, maybe we’ve protected ourselves from the criticism of others or acceptance in places that we wanted to experience belonging. Perhaps it was to not stand out and feel like a burden. Maybe we needed to prove our independence when we were met with being alone. Whatever the case might be, perfectionism became the answer even when on the journey to adulthood it caused a problem internally.
The Myth of the Immaculate Garden
We’ve all seen those flawless garden photos in magazines. The ones where the lawn is perfectly green, the flowers are curated, and there’s not a weed in sight. There are endless tips on how to keep it all under control. They make it seem easy. Just follow the steps. Do what you’re supposed to do.
We forget the amount of help and effort and probably a fair bit of photo editing that went into that image. The truth is that maintaining that level of perfection is exhausting. Emotionally, mentally, physically. It becomes a job and a task to check off the list. There is absolutely nothing wrong with wanting a beautiful space. But when that desire gets tangled with pressure and self-criticism, it stops being about joy and starts being about performance. That pressure takes you away from what the garden was supposed to be in the first place. A space to take a deep breath and reset.
The Beauty in the Weeds
Let’s talk about the weeds. Those dandelions for one, that turn into those cute little white puffs, that then spread their seeds all over the place and quickly grow and replace themselves with billions more dandelions. They can seem like a menace and to some, they might still be. And they’re also used in herbal teas and salads. They’re wild. Who gets to decide what qualifies as a weed anyway?
The idea of the weeds coming in and taking away from the immaculate garden, it can seem terrifying, because often it is right, if the idea is to create an immaculate garden, then weeds have no place, but what if this perspective got to change?
What if the goals for your garden got to be about having fun? I don’t think I’m wrong in saying that for most a garden is meant to be a place that’s restorative and gives you peace.
So what would it be like to give yourself room to explore what you’re truly enjoying about a garden space. Are you wanting to harvest something? Are you just wanting some beautiful flowers? Or are you pushing yourself to garden when really you’d rather have a fake plant in a pot that you dont’ have to take care of?
Could your garden have room for wildness. Maybe there is room for the tidiness and organization of the garden you’re creating, but also a letting in of nature. Nature is wild, unknown and breathtaking. What if the garden got to be a place of getting curious of what you were able to create with your own two hands as well as witnessing the beauty of what the earth already provides. There’s magic in letting things be messy. The same goes for our lives.
Cultivating a Healthier Inner Garden
There’s no shame in wanting things to look good. But perfection comes at a cost. Often, that cost is joy. When things don’t go just right, we beat ourselves up. There is frustration around how things are going and a lot of criticism about how you’re falling short. How the garden you’ve been trying to create doesn’t match up and is getting outshined by someone else who’s doing it better. Better than you.
What if cultivating a healthier garden meant letting in the weeds? What if it meant picking a dandelion, making a wish, and remembering what play felt like? What if it meant letting your garden get a little messy a little more wild? A healthier garden might look like permission. Permission to not have it all together. Permission to rest. Permission to simply be wild.
Letting Your Garden Breathe
An immaculate garden is not a requirement. You don’t have to keep trimming down the edges of your life to make it acceptable. You have permission to enjoy and encourage the wildness to grow. To stop trimming the edges and keeping everything tidy. The journey with your garden can be somethin you delight in. I hope this metaphor helps you connect with the curious, playful part of yourself that might be hidden under the pressure of perfectionism. If you’re ready to explore your own perfectionism and anxiety therapy journey, reach out to me. You already know what it’s like to feel exhausted by trying to get it all right. If you’re ready to plant something real, something wild, and something truly yours, I’d love to help you tend to that.
