Helen Marie O'Connell: Sow seeds of understanding

RIPPED UP: The Moulin Rouge sunflower could have produced 100 more plants if it had not been taken.PHOTO/FLICKR SUNFLOWER-MOULIN-ROUGE

Three years ago I moved to Whanganui. After living in an upstairs flat in Wellington with no garden, my first priority was to get my hands in the dirt, to put into practice things learned from a year of web-based garden envy, and to sow seeds collected from friends around the country.

Coming from a place of land scarcity, Wanganui seemed absolutely overflowing with riches - huge back yards, wide berms and rich, dark soil everywhere, ripe for conversion to abundant gardens.

It surprised me how little was being utilised, despite the claims of poverty and hunger I started to hear about in the community.

Within a few weeks, a hoard of seedlings was ready for planting: kamo kamo, corn, beans, cucumbers and more ... Having exceeded the capacity of my designated plot, I planted veges on the verge outside. My housemates' reaction was: "But people will take them." "Good," I said. "That's what they're there for."

I also sowed sunflower seeds - a deep, velvety red, heritage variety - for the bees, butterflies and for beauty. In a month they bloomed, more gorgeous than anticipated, towering over the surplus squash below.

One day, returning home, I stopped. Something was different. My sunflowers were gone - all of them. Ripped up from the roots.

I was dumbfounded.

One person had just proved the naysayers right. There was no point trying to do anything good here because someone would ruin it. No point starting a community garden because it would be destroyed. No use sharing with thieves ...

What saddened me most, though, was the ignorance behind the act.

Those sunflowers were a few short weeks away from producing seed. Each flower could have provided 100 seeds, in turn growing 100 more plants, and so on ... Forever.

But this potential was eviscerated in a moment of greed.

It was a revealing wake-up call. It showed me that abundance cannot thrive where a scarcity consciousness persists; that seeds of understanding must be also sown alongside those for food; and that, while the impoverished body steals food, the undernourished soul will steal beauty.

On Waiheke, many moons ago, I ran the local cinema. Tuesdays were dedicated doco nights where gardening and community resilience were regular topics. The facilitator for these evenings was James Samuel - his mantra: "You may have a garden, but you don't have food security unless your neighbour does too."

James is one of many "local food" advocates, including a number from Wanganui, being featured in The Localising Food Project - an educational series currently in production around New Zealand, and fundraising for post-production. The LFP provides help to grow your own - and enable your neighbours to do so, too.

Without such opportunities to educate and to learn, the knowledge gaps around our food systems will only continue to widen. If we are to shift from a mindset of scarcity to a reality of abundance within our communities, then potential is the first seed we must sow in our collective consciousness.

See: www.localisingfood.com

-Helen Marie O'Connell is an independent researcher and project co-ordinator based in Wanganui.