Growing Community, One Root at a Time 

Sun and soil banner image with the words: sun and soil garden news

 

June 2025

by Stephan Perera

 

Questions about volunteering? Please see our volunteer page.

One morning in late spring, just as the dew was lifting off the soil, a few of us gathered in the garden to plant the first row of tomatoes. Everything was still except the birds, already busy. Josh Johnston, our head gardener, showed us how to tie the tomato plants gently to the new trellis. “Not too tight,” he said, smiling. “Leave them some room to grow.” That moment stuck with me. Not just because it was quiet and peaceful, but because it echoed something deeper: real growth, whether in plants or people, takes time, care, and space.

That’s the spirit behind Sun and Soil, our garden project at Dorje Denma Ling. Since 2019, and for many years before, this garden has quietly become one of the center’s most meaningful spaces and evolving response to the needs of our retreat center and the values we live by. What began as a modest attempt to reduce food costs and build some self-sufficiency has blossomed into a thriving, grounded practice in sustainability, mindfulness, and community care.

Each growing season, the garden deepens its roots. We now cultivate an impressive variety of vegetables, leafy greens, herbs, fruits, and perennials, not only for nourishment but to foster a deeper relationship with the land we live on.

Our vegetable beds produce wonderful garlic, as well as tomatoes, zucchinis, cucumbers, summer squash, kale, chard, green beans, radishes, beets, lettuce, and spinach. These foods are harvested by hand and often served within hours in the kitchen, feeding staff and retreat participants in the same thoughtful way we tend the garden.

Aromatic herbs like basil, parsley, cilantro, mint, oregano, and lovage grow in both neat rows and wild patches, ready to be made into teas, infused oils, or tossed into meals with care. Perennial plants like lupine, while beautiful, also work quietly beneath the surface fixing nitrogen into the soil and naturally supporting the ecosystem. This year, we’re even experimenting with crops like rice and soybeans. Though they’re uncommon for our region, they represent our spirit of curiosity and commitment to resilience.

We are also tending a growing variety of berries and nuts: highbush blueberries and cranberries, currants, sea buckthorn, and hazelnuts all chosen for their adaptability, nutritional value, and flavour. These plants not only support our meals but also contribute to the diversity of our local environment. The presence of birds, bees, and butterflies reminds us daily that we are just one part of a much wider ecosystem.

Garden view in early spring

 

One of this year’s major improvements has been the construction of a new fence. Built to protect the garden from deer and other curious visitors. It’s a simple in structure, but it speaks to something much bigger: the way small, practical acts like hammering fence posts, stacking compost, or tying up vines can become quiet forms of devotion.

At Dorje Denma Ling, our roots lie in the Shambhala tradition, which teaches us that everyday life is an opportunity for mindfulness, warriorship, and awakening. In that sense, gardening here is never just about the food. It’s about how we live and how we relate to the world around us. We practice sitting meditating indoors; we practice active awareness in the garden. Both are invitations to be present. To slow down. To notice.

As Josh puts it, “Sustainability isn’t just about using the land, it’s about listening to it, respecting it, and giving back at least as much as we take.” That’s a mantra we return to with every planting season. The garden is not something separate from our practice, it is the practice. We learn patience from the soil. We learn generosity from its bounty. And we learn impermanence from every plant that comes and goes.

What we grow also serves a direct purpose. The produce ends up in our kitchen offering retreat guests nourishing, wholesome meals made with ingredients grown just meters away. There’s something deeply satisfying about knowing the greens in your salad were picked that morning. Food becomes more than fuel; it becomes part of the teachings, part of the offering.

And the work? It doesn’t happen on its own. Which brings us to this invitation.

If you’re drawn to the land, if you’ve been looking for a chance to give back, or if you simply want to slow down and reconnect with something real. We’d love to have your help. The Sun and Soil project is always welcoming volunteers. No experience is required. Just a willingness to learn, participate, and share.

Tasks range from planting and watering to harvesting, composting, weeding, and small building projects. Sometimes the most valuable contribution is simply being present with the land and offering your care. Whether you’re here for a day, a week, or the whole summer, your presence matters.

Garden plants under row cover

 

Volunteering in the garden is also a way to engage with Dorje Denma Ling outside the meditation hall. It’s a different kind of retreat: quiet, grounded, and rooted in the rhythms of the Earth. You might be surprised at what you notice in yourself after planting a few rows of beans or turning soil.

As the season unfolds, we’re reminded again and again: the garden gives back what we’re willing to give to it. And in that exchange, something more than food is cultivated. Trust. Relationship. Community.

In the end, gardening teaches the same truths we find in meditation. To begin again. To care for what’s right in front of us. And to let go of the outcome. With sun, soil, and shared hands, something always grows.

We hope you’ll grow with us.

If youre interested in volunteering, please see our volunteer page and our volunteer application form.

 

One thought on “Growing Community, One Root at a Time 

  1. I’ve been volunteering at Dorje Denma Ling this spring—not in the garden itself, but I’ve had the joy of watching it come together. It’s been inspiring to see the care and dedication that goes into each part of it, from preparing the soil to planting. Even as an observer, it’s clear that the garden is more than just a space for food—it’s a space for connection, quiet reflection, and shared purpose. Thank you to everyone who’s had a hand in its growth. It’s a beautiful reminder of the same qualities we cultivate in practice: patience, presence, and generosity.

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