It was three weeks into the lockdown when the anxiety hit. My brain — even on the best of days, not exactly a shining beacon of peace and tranquility — was suddenly full of worry. It felt a little like graduating college during the recession, only worse.
How would life be in an economy once again broken to bits? Was my job safe? Was my wife’s? Should we hold off on having kids? What will Santa Barbara look like after this? What will the world look like?
Of course, I still don’t have the answers to those questions, but I’ve found a way to dwell on them less. Vegetable gardening, when done right — not in terms of crop yield, but in terms of patience and attitude — refocuses the mind and brings some sunshine back into the heart. It doesn’t matter that I’m not great at it. (Our slug-eaten spinach and tomato-less tomato plant can attest to that.) It’s the process and the learning that feels good. Plus, it’s just nice to care for another living thing.