Rewilding Wellness Through the Garden Gate
By Olivia Shave, Founder of Ecoewe
In the dappled green heart of the Cotswolds, where the hedgerows hum and the fields ripple with old knowing, there’s a quiet movement taking root. It’s not a protest or a trend, but a remembering of soil, of stillness, of the land beneath our feet as a source of healing.
At the recent Regenerative Ark Summit, held among the stone barns and wildflower meadows of rural Gloucestershire, I had the good fortune to meet Lara Cowan, a woman whose presence felt as steady as the oaks that bordered the gathering. We shared a panel on Land, Wellness and the Future of Rural Stewardship, and it was there, listening to her speak, that I was introduced to the gentle revolution she leads through her work at The Botanic Shed.
Where Gardening Becomes Ceremony
The Botanic Shed is not your typical garden consultancy. Based in Oxfordshire and reaching across the home counties, Lara’s work bridges horticulture with something older, something rooted in ritual, deep listening, and a reverence for what she calls “the more-than-human world.”
Her approach weaves together RHS-level horticultural knowledge with herbalism, geomancy (yes, earth energy work), and a strong thread of spiritual ecology. Her gardens are not merely planted, but co-created with place, guided by the land’s rhythms and stories.
At the Summit, Lara said something that stayed with me:
“The land doesn’t just feed us, it reflects us. And if we care for it well, it has the power to heal us, too.”
That is the essence of her practice. Gardening, here, becomes more than design; it becomes devotion.
The School of Nature
Lara’s philosophy comes most vividly alive through her School of Nature, a seasonal offering of workshops and retreats held in meadows, potting sheds, and ancient woodlands. Here, gardening becomes tactile therapy: where composting meets astrology, borage meets breathwork, and digging becomes a way back to the self.
She shared stories of women returning to the land after grief, burnout, or disconnection.
“So many come to us looking for a garden,” she said, “and end up discovering something much deeper.”
What struck me most was her insistence on listening to the land, to the energy beneath it, and to what each person truly needs from their outdoor space. It’s not about imposing a vision. It’s about drawing one out, respectfully and slowly, like coaxing a wildflower to seed.
A Neurodiverse Way of Seeing
Part of what makes Lara’s work so radically inclusive is her own lived experience of neurodivergence. Diagnosed later in life with ADHD and PTSD, she brings an acute awareness to how working with the land can serve as a regulatory, healing practice, not just for herself, but for the young adults she mentors, many of whom are neurodiverse.
“It’s about creating bridges,” she told me. “Between people and the land, and between people and themselves.”
From her School of Nature events to her hands-on garden design mentorships, she makes space for those who often feel overwhelmed or left out of traditional learning models. Here, pattern-seeking becomes a strength, silence a form of communication, and composting a metaphor for transformation.
From Garden to Sanctuary
Though her methods may sound ethereal, Lara’s work is anything but vague. The Botanic Shed offers full garden design, stewardship, and maintenance services, from soil restoration to orchard planning and wildlife schemes. But what sets them apart is the deep-rooted ethos behind every choice: no plastic, no pesticides, and always, a fierce love for native planting and natural rhythms.
One landowner turned a corner of their smallholding into a medicinal kitchen garden using Lara’s guidance. Another replaced their ornamental lawn with a regenerative wildflower meadow, integrating bee bricks into dry stone walls. These are not aesthetic choices, they’re ecological, spiritual, and social commitments.
“It’s about creating spaces that nourish people and the planet,” she said, something our rural landscapes sorely need more of.
Feminine Leadership in the Field
As farmers, smallholders, and growers, we’re increasingly being asked not just to produce, but to regenerate. The language of land is shifting, and so is the leadership. Lara’s presence and the rise of practices like hers signal a return to intuitive, relational stewardship.
“Sometimes it’s less about changing a garden,” she reflected, “and more about understanding what it already wants to become.”
That insight, delivered with grounded clarity, resonated deeply with many of us on the panel. In a world of metrics and management plans, Lara’s work offers a gentle challenge: listen first. Work with the land, not just on it.
Touching the Earth Differently
There’s a reason The Botanic Shed is drawing attention from regenerative farms, estates, and private landowners alike. It’s not just the beauty of the spaces they help shape, it’s the invitation they offer: to slow down, dig deep, and tend both soil and soul.
Whether through geomantic surveys, herbal medicine walks, or rose-hip tinctures brewed under the waxing moon, Lara’s work reminds us that the countryside is not just a backdrop to be managed, but a living, breathing teacher.
In a time when rural mental health is in crisis, and climate grief cuts deep, we need new ways of being with the land. We need more places where a potting shed becomes a sanctuary. Where a hedgerow can hold a woman’s story. Where nature isn’t curated, it’s honoured.
Cultivating the Future
Lara’s vision doesn’t end at the garden gate. Through the Botanic Shed, she is quietly building infrastructure for change, piloting patron-funded apprenticeships for young people, mentoring neurodiverse gardeners, fundraising for charities like Jamie’s Farm, and advocating for policy shifts that value land-based learning as preventive health care.
“We want to make land work cool,” she said with a smile. “Not just for those who can afford it, but for the young people who need it most.”
This is not just gardening, it’s cultural repair. A reclaiming of belonging. A quiet campaign for a more grounded, reciprocal world.
One Garden at a Time
Before leaving the Summit, I asked Lara what she hoped people would take away from her work. She didn’t speak of outcomes or targets. Instead, she said simply:
“Start by sitting in your garden and asking it what it needs. Then listen.”
That’s The Botanic Shed in a nutshell. Not a service. Not a brand. But an ethos. A way of remembering that the land we live on has always been our partner, not our project.
As the days shorten and the soil grows heavy with summer’s growth, I find myself drawn back to that idea again and again: that healing is not just something we wait for. It’s something we dig with our hands.
And in that quiet, earthy act, maybe, just maybe, we begin to rewild not only our gardens, but ourselves.
Connect with Lara here:
Oxon - Berks - Hamps - Wilts - Glos
Lara Cowan (44) 7747 600569
Find her on Instagram, Facebook, and LinkedIn, or you can also visit her website https://www.botanicshed.com