Outside the clinic
Dirt under the fingernails, vegetables in the ground.
Ben grows vegetables in his backyard in Brisbane — tomatoes, leafy greens, herbs, and the occasional ambitious brassica. It is, he says, the only part of his week where the outcome is genuinely uncertain and he's okay with that.
The garden
The vegetable garden started during lockdown, like a lot of vegetable gardens. Unlike a lot of lockdown gardens, it survived.
Ben built four raised beds in the back corner of the yard over a long weekend in 2020. He filled them with a compost mix his neighbour — a retired horticulturalist with strong opinions about soil pH — helped him get right. The first season produced a surplus of zucchini that he has since described as "instructive." The tomatoes were very good. The cauliflowers were not.
Most weeks he's out there at some point on Saturday morning — watering, pulling weeds, checking on whatever's coming up. His kids have a vague interest in the cherry tomatoes and no interest in anything else. His partner is supportive, though she has noted that the amount of time spent reading about nitrogen cycles seems disproportionate to the size of the plot.
"There's something about the pace of it," Ben says. "A tomato doesn't care how your week went. It just needs water and sun. The garden doesn't need anything from me except showing up. After a week of sitting with a lot of difficult things, that's worth quite a bit."
The neighbour's compost advice has been correct every single time. Ben has never once told him this directly, but the quality of the silverbeet speaks for itself.
What's in the beds
The regulars, and the ones that test him.
Four beds, a Brisbane climate, and a rotating cast of vegetables with varying opinions about the situation. Some are reliable old friends. Others are ongoing negotiations.
Tomatoes
The undisputed success story of the garden. Cherry tomatoes in summer, a couple of beefsteak varieties if he's feeling ambitious. The kids eat them warm off the vine and claim not to like tomatoes. Ben has decided not to point out the contradiction.
Leafy greens
Silverbeet, kale, and a rotating cast of lettuces. Reliable, low-drama, and genuinely useful — they go into most weeknight dinners from about May through August. The kale is Ben's. No one else is enthusiastic about the kale.
Herbs
Basil, parsley, chives, and a rosemary bush that has outgrown its corner and shows no signs of stopping. The basil is taken seriously. There is more basil in summer than any household requires, and Ben gives the surplus to people who have stopped being surprised by it.
The brassica corner
Broccoli and cauliflower — attempted every winter with mixed results. The broccoli is generally fine. The cauliflower remains, in Ben's words, "a project." He keeps trying because he finds the effort instructive, which is either admirable or a professional hazard.
Zucchini (cautiously)
Grown once with what he now describes as "reckless confidence." The yield was significant. He has since learned to plant one zucchini at a time, in a corner, with managed expectations. This has been the correct approach.
Whatever the kids pick
One bed is partially negotiated. Strawberries have featured. A pumpkin was attempted and sprawled significantly beyond its designated area. There is currently a beetroot plant that was requested, planted, and has not been eaten by the person who requested it.
Growing things is a lesson in non-attachment. You do the preparation, you do the work, and then you let go of the outcome. The garden is a better teacher of that than most things I've read.
Here for the therapy, not the tomatoes.
The vegetables are not for sale. The psychology practice very much is open for bookings.