A Garden Above Brooklyn
On a summer evening in Bed-Stuy, the sound of traffic hums below as neighbors shout greetings across stoops. High above the noise, Shaulene Wright kneels among planters of basil, kale, and marigolds on her rooftop garden. The air smells faintly of compost and mint tea. She pauses, hands resting in the soil, before leading a short meditation for three friends seated on yoga mats nearby.
For Wright, this blend of gardening and Buddhism is not just a pastime. It is a way of transforming city life into something rooted, mindful, and shared.
Seeds From Family Roots
Her relationship with plants began early. Her father, a groundskeeper for the NYC Parks Department, often came home with extra seedlings from city projects. “He’d hand me a half-wilted geranium and say, ‘See if you can save this one,’” she recalls with a smile. Her mother, an art teacher, encouraged creativity in every form, including sketching the plants that bloomed on their apartment windowsill.
Weekends at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden became a family ritual, where Shaulene and her siblings raced through exhibits before lingering by the Japanese pond. Those visits planted a quiet conviction that caring for nature could anchor her in the city’s constant motion.
Lessons in Stillness
Wright first encountered Buddhist teachings in her early twenties while searching for calm during a stressful retail job. A community meditation session at a local sangha became a turning point. “I remember sitting there, listening to the sound of my own breath for what felt like the first time,” she says. “It felt like gardening for the mind, tending to what you usually overlook.”
Her training at the New York Insight Meditation Center deepened that practice. Over time, she began weaving mindfulness into her gardening workshops. When neighbors asked how to keep basil from wilting, she’d answer with both practical tips and reminders about patience.
Rooftop Stories
The impact of her work is best seen in small, everyday moments. One summer, she helped a single father in Crown Heights set up a balcony garden for his two daughters. They grew cherry tomatoes together, and by September, the girls carried bowls of red fruit to share with neighbors on their block.
Another time, during a compost drop-off event she organized, a skeptical neighbor admitted he thought the project was “just hippie stuff.” Months later, he returned with a bag of food scraps, proudly telling her that he had convinced his landlord to add a compost bin for their building.
These anecdotes reflect Wright’s philosophy: change doesn’t come from loud declarations, but from quiet, steady cultivation.
Community as Garden
Recognition has followed, like the Brooklyn Botanic Garden’s Community Greening Award in 2018, but Wright sees her role less as leader and more as connector. She hosts weekly meditation circles at Lotus Wellness Studio and seasonal gatherings on her rooftop. Each session blends breathing practices with the aroma of herbs growing in the planters. Participants often leave with a small cutting or packet of seeds to tend at home.
Her friends describe her as the one who always shows up with homemade tea blends. For Wright, even that small gesture is an extension of her practice: “When you share a plant or a cup of tea, you’re sharing a moment of care.”
Philosophy of Patience
In her own words, tending to plants mirrors tending to the mind. Both require patience, consistency, and a willingness to start again when things falter. Brooklyn’s rhythm may be fast, but her rooftop is a reminder that slowness has its place.
“It’s easy to think growth only happens when you push harder,” Wright says. “But sometimes, the most important growth is the kind you can’t see yet, the roots forming quietly beneath the surface.”
Interview with Shaulene Wright
What first drew you to gardening in such an urban environment?
Honestly, it was my dad. He’d bring home leftover plants from his job with the Parks Department. They weren’t perfect. Some were half-dried or missing leaves. But he’d say, “Try to keep it alive.” It became a little challenge that turned into a lifelong love.
How do you balance gardening and meditation in your daily life?
For me, they aren’t separate. When I water plants or check the soil, I treat it like a mindfulness practice. Gardening slows me down. Meditation does the same. They both ask for presence, and that’s what I try to live by.
Can you share a story of when your gardening work impacted someone else?
A few years ago, I helped a neighbor set up a small balcony garden for his daughters. They grew cherry tomatoes, and the girls started sharing bowls of them with the building. It became more than just food. It was a way for them to connect with people around them. That’s when I realized how powerful something simple like a plant can be.
What has been your biggest challenge in this journey?
Space. Brooklyn doesn’t exactly give you big backyards. At first, it felt impossible to grow anything beyond a couple of herbs on the windowsill. Learning about container gardening and rooftop gardens changed everything. It taught me that limits can actually inspire creativity.
What do your meditation circles mean to you personally?
They’re community. Sitting together, breathing together, it creates this sense that we’re not alone in our struggles. I’ve had people tell me that those 30 minutes a week are the only time they really stop and feel at peace. That’s humbling, and it keeps me going.
If you had to sum up your philosophy in one sentence, what would it be?
Care for plants the way you care for your mind. Slowly, patiently, and with kindness.
