AI Anxiety: How Gardening Can Help Us Feel Grounded

There is a lot to take in right now. Artificial intelligence is changing how we work, how we learn, and how we imagine the future. We can be curious about its possibilities and still feel unsettled by the speed of change.

A September CNN poll conducted by SSRS found that 75% of Americans feel more fear and concern than hope and excitement about AI’s growth and development.

I have been thinking about that uncertainty—and how gardening can offer a grounding moment as we navigate it.

AI Makes Curiosity Convenient

One thing that continues to grow is curiosity. And AI makes curiosity convenient.

Growing up in Alaska, I remember when our family got our Encyclopedia Britannica sets—the red children’s edition and the white adult edition. We felt lucky to have all that knowledge right there in our den.

When we were curious about something, Dad would say, “Go look it up.”

Before those books arrived, finding an answer often meant asking Mom or Dad or making a trip to the library. The encyclopedias gave us somewhere else to turn. We would pull a volume from the shelf to answer one question and sometimes discover three more along the way.

Now we can ask AI a question and receive an answer in seconds. I find that extraordinary. I also think Dad’s invitation still matters: go look it up. Ask another question. Check the source. Stay curious about the answer itself.

I wonder how much of our uneasiness comes from the speed of change. How much comes from not understanding the technology? How much comes from watching people accept the first response as fact? And how much comes from wondering what role we will have in the world we are creating?

Those are different concerns, and they deserve thoughtful attention.

But where do we put the uncertainty while we work through them?

Making Room for Nature in an AI World

There is another possibility worth considering: what if some of the time AI saves us becomes time we spend more intentionally?

In a conversation with Arianna Huffington published by Thrive Global, Anthropic co-founder Daniela Amodei described what that could make room for:

“Spend time with the people you love in person, spend time in nature, spend time connecting to something bigger than yourself.”

That idea stays with me. I can appreciate the convenience of getting an answer in seconds and still choose to spend a few unhurried minutes checking on my herbs.

When I think about AI anxiety and gardening, this is where the connection becomes personal. There is uncertainty about what comes next. There is also something living, right in front of me, that I can care for today.

One place I return to is the garden.

Finding a Grounding Moment in the Garden

When I step outside to check on my herbs, there is something specific to notice and something useful to do. Is the soil dry? Is there a new leaf? Is the lemon balm ready to harvest?

For a few minutes, my attention has somewhere to land.

The same opportunity can be sitting right on my desk. As my inbox comes to life in the morning, taking a minute to check my desktop garden gives me a small pause before I begin responding to everyone else.

I can notice what has changed. Check whether it needs water. Appreciate something that is growing right beside me.

That moment often brings gratitude: for a new leaf, for the scent of an herb, for the chance to care for something living. Gratitude does not require every worry to disappear. It gives me something else to notice alongside it.

Research gives us reason to take these practices seriously. A systematic review of gratitude interventions found benefits for anxiety symptoms, although the evidence has limitations. A randomized trial of community gardening also found reductions in perceived stress and anxiety.

The gardening trial did not examine AI-related worry or the effects of tending a single desktop plant. It does, however, add evidence that gardening can support our well-being.

For me, tending a garden is also a way to practice moving through uncertainty. We observe. We adjust. We try again. We discover that our attention matters, even when we cannot control every outcome.

There is curiosity here, too. Why is that leaf turning yellow? What will this herb taste like? When will the bulb bloom?

Some questions send me looking for information. Others bring me back tomorrow to see what has changed.

I want to keep making room for both.

Five Minutes to Tend Something

You do not need a large backyard or an afternoon with nothing on the calendar to begin. A container of herbs, a desktop garden, or a plant near the window can give you something to notice and tend.

Take five minutes. Set your phone down. Check the soil before watering. Look closely at a leaf. Notice a new shoot. If you are growing edible herbs, harvest a little something for dinner.

You may still have questions about the future when you return to your day. I certainly do. But those few minutes give me a chance to slow down, pay attention, and do something useful with the uncertainty I am carrying.

I still hear Dad saying, “Go look it up.” I hope I never lose that curiosity.

And I hope I always remember to step outside and see what is growing.

If the future feels overwhelming today, start with something you can tend.

Let that be one good thing you do with the next five minutes.