Gardening reminds me that just like flowers depend on the hidden ecology of the soil, we too are complex ecosystems — human holobionts — shaped by invisible microbes, emotions, and the environment we live in. True healing begins when we tend to the whole terrain.
Patients are often surprised when I tell them my favourite hobby is gardening.
“But… you’re always warning us about the sun!” they laugh. And it’s true. I do advocate for UV protection, because skin health matters. But I also believe in balance, in living fully, and in choosing practices that nourish not just our cells, but our spirit.
Gardening has been my quiet companion for over 20 years. It grounds me in a way nothing else does. I step into the garden not to escape life, but to meet it differently, with patience, presence, and open hands.
For me, gardening is both grounding and elevating. Scientific studies back this lived experience. Research shows that gardening reduces cortisol, anxiety, and depression, while increasing life satisfaction and connectedness to Nature. It helps me enter a state of flow — that rare, nourishing space where presence takes over and the mind quiets.
There’s also something deeply humbling about tending to living things. I can’t control the weather, nor the bugs. I can’t rush the growth. I can’t predict which seed will thrive, or when the first bloom will appear.
It’s not about perfection. It’s about participation: showing up daily, closely observing and constantly tweaking, trusting the process, learning to embrace uncertainty, and feeling the explosion of joy and gratitude when buds emerge overnight, silently, in stillness and surrender.
In many ways, gardening has shaped how I practice medicine. I’ve come to see the body, like plants in the soil, as alive, responsive, intelligent, and tenacious. Both hold memory. Both reflect their environment. And both carry an incredible capacity to heal, if gently and consistently tended to.
At Moyem, we speak often about regenerative care, not just for the skin, but for the whole person. Gardening mirrors that philosophy. It’s not about quick fixes or perfect outcomes. It’s about cultivating the conditions for resilience. About nourishing our terrain with patience and kindness. And importantly, about trust: in our body, in time, in the quiet work beneath the surface.
So yes, I garden. In the sun, with SPF, in the quiet of the morning.
Because healing doesn’t always come from doing more.
Sometimes, it comes from slowing down, digging deep, and letting things unfold.
Hugs,
DR. TAN WANG THENG
