Practical tips, advice and hope for those who live alone
By Gwenn Voelckers
May has a way of waking things up.
After months of cold and clouds, the sun’s warmth now lingers, the ground softens and something in us begins to stir.
For those of us living alone — especially after loss or life changes — this season can bring a mix of emotions: hope, restlessness, even a longing to begin again.
I find something deeply comforting about using my hands and working the soil. Gardening reminds me that life renews itself, that growth is still possible, and that even my smallest efforts can produce beautiful — and fragrant! — results.
Each spring, as I step back into the perennial border by my front door, I’m reminded that tending a garden is not so different from tending a life lived on one’s own.
Here’s what the growing season has taught me:
Plan
Every glorious garden starts in the mind. Sketching it out not only keeps you from planting lupines on top of tulip bulbs, but also saves you from pulling out your own basil because you mistook it for a weed.
Likewise, when you’re living alone, a little life-mapping can help you shape your days with intention. Without it, it’s easy to drift — or to let other people’s needs quietly take over your time.
Putting your hopes on paper gives them a place to take root.
Cultivate
Healthy soil equals healthy plants. Feed your roots and you’ll flourish.
In the garden, that means compost and care. In life, it might be nourishing food, long walks, meaningful conversation, music that lifts your spirit, or simply stepping outside into the fresh air.
When you make yourself a priority, something inside you begins to bloom.
Plant
My local garden center is a dangerous place for me — so many possibilities!
But a wise gardening friend cautioned me to plant only what can be managed and tended with care. The same is true in life.
When you’re on your own, how you spend your time and energy matters. Be mindful of what you choose to “plant” in your life—where you invest your attention and your commitments.
Sow kindness, curiosity, and self-care, and those are the things that will grow.
Weed
Left unattended, weeds will take over — both in gardens and in life.
Living alone gives you the gift of space and time, but it also asks you to protect it.
Pull out negativity. Let go of habits, thoughts, or expectations that disrupt your peace. And perhaps most freeing of all — release the “shoulds” that no longer fit who you are today.
Weeding makes room for what truly matters.
Prune
Sometimes the issue isn’t weeds — it’s overgrowth.
A commitment that no longer feels right. A daily activity that drains you more than it gives. Even a relationship that needs redefining.
Pruning takes courage, but it lets in light and air. It creates space for something new to emerge.
Mulch
In the garden, mulch protects, nourishes and keeps things steady.
In life, your “mulch” might be routines that ground you, friendships you can rely on, or practical supports like healthcare and financial planning.
It’s not glamorous, but it quietly sustains everything else. And over time, it makes all the difference.
Wait
One of the hardest lessons in gardening — and in life — is patience.
Seeds don’t sprout overnight. Neither do new beginnings.
If you’re rebuilding a life on your own, it may take time to feel steady, fulfilled, or even hopeful again. That’s okay.
Growth is happening, even when you can’t yet see it.
Enjoy
And then, one day, something blooms.
Stand back. Take it in. Notice the colors, the textures, the beauty of what you’ve created.
Living alone doesn’t mean life is diminished. In many ways, it can be richer — more intentional, more personal, more your own.
Don’t forget to savor it.
Gardening reminds me to treat my solo life as tenderly as I do my plants — to nurture it, protect it, shape it, and trust its seasons.
So, whether you’re tending a backyard garden, a few pots on a balcony, or simply the life you’re building day by day, remember this: With care, patience, and a willingness to begin again, something meaningful will grow.
Gwenn Voelckers, CLC, is a Certified Life Coach, columnist, and author of “Alone and Content,” a collection of inspiring essays for those who live alone. She welcomes your comments, questions, and topic suggestions at gvoelckers@rochester.rr.com
Gwenn Voelckers is a certified life coach (CLC), columnist and author of “Alone and Content,” a collection of inspiring essays for those who live alone. She welcomes your comments, questions, and inquiries at gvoelckers@rochester.rr.com