We Don’t Till the Soil—or the Soul

By Josh Singleton | Founder, The Neighborhood Garden Project

People often ask us two things:
Why do you use raised beds instead of planting straight in the ground?
And why do you keep grass between the beds instead of putting down mulch?

They’re good questions. But behind them, we often hear something deeper. A pressure to be more efficient. To make every inch count. To get more food out of the space. And while that might make sense on paper, that’s not why we’re here.

The real crisis we see isn’t food. It’s a lack of presence. So everything we build—the beds, the paths, the systems—it’s all shaped around presence. Not production. Not pressure. Just the space to be with people, to walk with them, and to create room for real growth to happen.

Raised beds help us do that. When you till the ground, you wake up thousands of weed seeds. That’s just how nature works. Those seeds were made to survive, not to be farmed. So when they get disturbed, they come alive. And suddenly, you’re spending all your energy fighting weeds instead of walking with people. Raised beds let us build without waking all that up.

It’s the same with people. When someone’s been through trauma, it often stays buried—deep down—because they haven’t had a safe place to let it rise. When we lead with pressure, we risk digging too soon. But when we lead with presence, healing happens slowly, safely, when the person is ready. We’re not here to till. We’re here to stay close. To be gentle. To say, “You’re safe here. Take your time.”

That’s why we don’t till the soil or push people to open up. We lay something soft—like cardboard—over what’s old and broken. And we build new life on top of that. The old is still there, but now it’s covered in care. That’s the kind of healing we believe in.

When trauma takes the lead, we react. We try to fix and control. But when presence leads, we rest. We trust that healing comes not from digging up the past, but from standing close and not leaving. That’s what Jesus did. He didn’t show up looking for pain. He showed up carrying peace. He didn’t demand people confess their wounds. He waited. He saw them. He walked with them.

And that’s how we want to show up, too.

As for the grass between our beds, we keep it on purpose. Mulch may seem cleaner, but over time, it turns into soil and grows even more weeds. Then you’re back to pulling weeds where you thought you solved a problem. But grass? You just mow it. It’s simple. It keeps the path dry, even after it rains. That means we can walk through the garden anytime, with anyone—no puddles, no mud. No delay on presence.

Some people think we’re just here to grow food. But really, food is the fruit of something deeper. We’re growing a space that works quietly. That doesn’t pull us away from people. That gives us time to stop and really see the person in front of us.

We’re not in a rush. We’re not trying to be everywhere or serve everyone. We’re building only at the pace that presence can handle. Because when you prioritize presence, you start to see what people really need—time, trust, space, and someone who’s not going anywhere.

And when we stop deciding who “deserves” food and who doesn’t, everything starts to shift. Everyone needs food. Everyone needs to be seen. Everyone needs presence. That’s where real change begins.

But here’s the truth: presence can’t be rushed, and it won’t survive in a system that only values output. It takes people willing to give and fund presence. Without that, we just repeat the same cycles—generational pain, missed potential, people falling through the cracks not because they didn’t matter, but because no one stayed long enough to really see them.

We’re not trying to change people. We’re not trying to prove our way is better. We’re just here to offer a place where people can come as they are. Where healing can begin—not with pressure or persuasion—but with presence.

And what better way to offer that than in the garden? Through soil, through beauty, through food that feeds more than just the body.

So yes, we use raised beds. And yes, we mow the grass. Because in the end, this whole garden is built for presence. And that’s what makes it grow.