The Therapeutic Value of Dirt

THE THERAPEUTIC VALUE OF DIRT

Published April 22, 2011 in Intermountain Farm and Ranch 

            Getting one’s hands dirty is so much a part of the farming culture that I just take it for granted.  You don’t accomplish much on the farm or ranch without dirt getting on your hands, under your fingernails, and on your clothes. I will admit that because of the dirt I don’t have the beautiful fingernails that my urban sisters have. 

My kids always played in the dirt.  They had their trucks and tractors, and farmed their little farms just like their dad farmed his big one. Sometimes they would come in for a meal as dirty as their dad did. When the kids were young, I had a verse on my fridge that read:

No matter how much I scrub and clean,

No matter what good plans I start the day with,

My kids always look like the kind of kids,

I wouldn’t want my kids to play with.

I often hear young mother’s say to their children as they go out to play – “don’t get your hands dirty,” or “stay away from that pile of dirt.”  Isn’t that taking away the fun of playing outside?  My father-in-law once said to me, “There’s nothing wrong with good clean dirt.”  I believe that!

            I can remember making mud pies as a child.  We would stir the mud and water and form the pies.  Then we would put dandelions, grass, even bugs on the top to decorate them, and bake them in the sunlight, (probably one of the first uses of solar energy).  I guess they were more like mud cakes.  I think we even tried to eat them a time or two. The only time Mother got upset with us for playing in the dirt would be on a Saturday afternoon after she had washed and put up our hair for Sunday.  Then if we went out into the dust, and especially if we played house and swept the dirt floor in our make believe house causing the dust to fly everywhere and into our clean hair, she would get upset.  Other than that we were allowed to wallow in the dirt.  Oh what fun!

            The other day I went to a meeting.  When I returned home I was frustrated at how little was accomplished.  It seemed like everyone just visited about things that didn’t pertain to the business we were there to accomplish.  It frustrated me as I had things at home that  needed to be done. By the time I got home I was “chomping at the bit,” so to speak.  So I changed my clothes and went out to work in the strawberry patch.  Kneeling in the dirt, feeling the warmth coming through my jeans was comforting. Digging, weeding, transplanting, feeling the dirt run through my hands, all those things had a healing affect on my mind.  It didn’t take long for me to calm down and put things in perspective. 

            Perhaps when we work in the dirt, we can look at life more realistically.  Simple things become real and precious.  The challenges in life don’t seem as big. The hectic pace we travel disappears as a feeling of calmness takes over.  Why worry about things we can’t control?   Why worry about what did or didn’t get accomplished at a meeting?  Why let a so-called wasted afternoon spoil the rest of the day for me? 

            Maybe we all need our own personal sand pile to play in at least once a day where we can sit and let the sand infiltrate into our shoes, our socks, even our underwear.  We could make sand castles, pretending we were at the beach.  We could throw the sand in the air and laugh as it gets in our hair, eyes, and ears.  You know, that might be as beneficial as sitting in a psychiatrist’s office and a quick shower will wash away all the bad effects of it.  Inexpensive therapeutic therapy!