In Praise of the Everyday and the Ordinary

Exploring philosophical thoughts on why gardens help us celebrate the everyday

The Common or Garden….

My particular interest is in what many people might consider to be quite ordinary or everyday gardens. For me, it’s those well loved,  enclosed spaces, whether they are public or private, that can create an environment that is both beautiful and secure, in which we can destress and reconnect with nature.   There are some extraordinary gardens being built by others that are specifically designed to be healing gardens and therapy gardens but these are not the subject of this blog. Instead, I’ll be exploring how ordinary gardens allow ordinary people in their everyday lives to allow themselves to have fun and to stay well.  

Prevention Not Cure

Whatever our days are like, life can often get overwhelming these days. Rather than waiting until we are so stressed and anxious that we need to make chunks of dedicated ‘wellbeing’ or ‘me’ time to take a holiday, go forest bathing or on a wellbeing retreat; the idea of valuing and celebrating small everyday moments is to avoid this kind of ‘work for the weekend’ mentality and enjoy a more measured approach.

I’ve written before in my other blogs on the importance of taking breaks at work and how these are ideally taken in a natural environment, and on how gardens can help us reconnect with nature and increase our wellbeing, so I’m not going to repeat all of that here. Instead, I’m going to look at some world views, how I think gardens relate to those views in how we think about and use our gardens.

We are not automatons

Progress, Productivity, Achievement, but at what cost?

Western culture has often been shaped by ideals of progress, achievement, and productivity. Instead of focusing on the present moment, Western philosophies often prioritize planning for the future, maximizing efficiency, and pursuing growth .

We see this play out in today’s “hustle culture” mentality, where value is placed on constant productivity, visible success, and self-improvement. Rather than savouring a moment, there’s an impulse to optimize it, to make every activity “worthwhile” in terms of tangible results. The idea of “work hard, play hard” highlights this perspective, where leisure is earned rather than an integral part of a balanced life. This results in a cultural emphasis on weekends, holidays, or “special occasions” as the designated times for relaxation and enjoyment, instead of viewing these qualities as accessible on a daily basis.

The idea that individuals progress in a linear way towards a distant ‘better’ future  and that we should seek fulfilment on a ‘higher plane’, outside of the physical world has its roots in Greek, and later Christian thought, so it’s little wonder that this remains a deeply held cultural expectation here in the UK.  

The trouble is that this drive for productivity, achievement, and future gains often leads to a sense of missing the present or valuing it only in terms of how it contributes to something larger. It creates the idea of  “arriving” at happiness, rather than recognizing it in small, everyday experiences.

With the rise of automation and AI we are increasingly a society of knowledge workers. We are not automatons and perhaps need to look at other world views to stop treating ourselves as such.

A Japanese tea ceremony epitomises the celebration of small daily moments

Cultural Celebration of the Everyday

In opposition to this linear view that celebrates the cerebral over the sensual, Japanese culture embodies the art of celebrating small moments, a practice rooted in philosophies that value mindfulness, beauty, and presence. One example is the Japanese tea ceremony, or chanoyu, a ritual that transforms the simple act of preparing and drinking tea into a moment of deep reflection and appreciation. Every aspect of the ceremony—from arranging the tea tools to the slow, deliberate movement, is carefully crafted to heighten the senses, invite mindfulness, and cultivate a sense of peace. Everyday objects like cups and utensils are treated with reverence, emphasizing that the mundane can become sacred through attention and care.

Another example is the appreciation of sakura, or cherry blossoms, during hanami season. Each spring, people across Japan gather under blooming cherry trees, enjoying picnics and gazing at the delicate pink blossoms that only last a few days. This celebration underscores an acceptance of life’s fleeting beauty and the importance of pausing to admire it, even if only briefly. Hanami  is a time to cherish the impermanence of life, reflecting the broader Japanese concept of mono no aware—an awareness and gentle sadness toward the transience of all things.

Even the concept of kintsugi, the art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer mixed with gold, celebrates imperfection and resilience. Instead of discarding broken items, kintsugi  honours their history, transforming flaws into something more beautiful. This philosophy extends into everyday life, encouraging appreciation for imperfections and the stories they hold.

Together, these practices reflect a cultural emphasis on finding beauty in the small, ordinary details of life.

Enjoying a quiet moment in the garden

What has all this got to do with gardening?

Looking at both of these philosophical strands, it’s clear to me where gardens and the act of gardening sit. What I have found, in the act of gardening, and developing a garden over time, is that it is one of the few activities where I can just enjoy it purely for the sake of it. Yes, of course,  I have some future goals – I always hope that what I’m planting is going to be beautiful or to provide some delicious food, but crucially, often the garden has other ideas and things don’t work out as expected. Sometimes things don’t work out at all, sometimes they exceed expectations (oh the joy!) Learning to accept that with an ‘oh well’  and move on is part and parcel of a gardener’s way of thinking. The best gardens are in constant change and there is no singular end result to strive towards.

The beauty of a garden is also appreciating small everyday changes in an area that you know intimately and feel secure in. Taking a morning wander with your cup of coffee to see what’s been happening (in spring and summer, sometimes overnight) is a cheering start to any day.  Even if things are not going well everywhere, you might wonder what you might do in the evening or at the weekend to sort things out, knowing that there’s no intense pressure to do so, you’re only doing it because you want to - for the fun of it.

Finally, gardens and gardening cannot help but to be sensual. Again, I’ve written on this in other blogs so I won’t repeat at length here, but it’s easy to understand how gardens appeal to all five senses and ground you, both in the physical world and in the moment.

When teaching garden design one year I suggested that gardens are mainly just for fun and I heard a few sharp intakes of breath.  I suppose, as an ex architect, the point that I was trying to get at was that gardens don’t keep you warm or dry, we don’t generally get washed in them or wash anything else in them - they don’t have a ‘use’ in that sense. This is why, although I’m all for encouraging people to get outside into nature, I am not fond of turning a garden space into another ‘room’ with a fireplace, TV, overhead light, carpet and lots of hard surfacing, reminiscent of an indoor room.  For me, they are a different kind of space, for a different kind of experience. Yes, I have talked about gardening and productivity and gardens and wellbeing because I believe that the copious research around these subjects should be shared and does have value. But why can’t something be just for fun?  I believe that is kind of the point of gardens, if they must have a point at all.

If you would like to work with a Garden Design Practice who focuses on bringing joy to the everyday through carefully curated outdoor escapes infused with soft and abundant planting, then please get in touch!