Therapy and Gardens
I spent last weekend cleaning up and tending to my garden. Each year, I plant a large vegetable garden and care for the raspberry bushes and strawberries I started years ago. My yard is also filled with water-saving, bee-friendly pollinator plants that bring color, life, and movement to the space. While I’m out there digging, pruning, and planting, I often find myself thinking about the many therapy metaphors that gardening brings to life—parallels I frequently share with my clients.
Here are a few of my favorites:
1. EMDR and Dandelions
Trauma work, especially with EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing), reminds me a lot of dealing with dandelions. You can mow them down, pull off the flowers, or trim the leaves, but if you don’t get to the root, they keep coming back. Coping skills are important and absolutely necessary, but they’re often like trimming the surface. When clients are ready, EMDR can help us dig deeper and pull trauma out by the root, reducing its hold in a meaningful way.
2. Planting Seeds
Not every session leads to dramatic change, and that’s okay. Sometimes, the work is simply planting seeds, introducing new perspectives, building trust, or gently challenging old patterns. In those moments, it may not look like much is happening, but growth is beginning beneath the surface.
3. Watching People Grow
This is one of the most beautiful parts of my job. Watching someone grow into their strength, resilience, and self-compassion is like seeing a garden bloom. Sometimes the growth is slow and steady; other times, it bursts forth unexpectedly. Either way, it’s a privilege to witness.
4. Tending to the Garden (and Our Mental Health)
Gardens don’t thrive on their own, they require intention, consistency, and care. The same is true for our mental health. It’s not always exciting or dramatic; often it’s the little things, like showing up for ourselves, setting boundaries, asking for help, or just resting, that make the biggest difference over time. The process is ongoing, but the results are deeply rewarding.
Every spring, my hands get dirty and my back aches, but my heart feels full. The garden reminds me that healing and growth take time, patience, and a whole lot of care, but they are always possible.
