OVERVIEW
I know not all of us actively care for plants, but I would dare say most of us have, at one point or another, taken care of a house plant, a garden or perhaps bigger endeavours like orchards or farms.
I struggle quite a bit with my skill-level and commitment when it comes to plants, and every time I see a withering leaf or a wrinkly branch I recognise that my inability to sustain adequate conditions for this organism is most-often the reason for its depressing outcome.
Never have I thought the plant itself was to blame for not thriving in less-than-ideal conditions.
When people aren’t thriving in spaces where I have influence, it’s imperative for me to ask myself: “What role do I play in creating and/or maintaining the current conditions? What responsibility do I bear? Maybe none, maybe all of it, most likely and at the very least…some. Where we have influence we have responsibility. Just how much is for each of us to figure out and take ownership of.
BACKGROUND
I had been an unsuspecting and temporary carer of plants at different points in my life, but it wasn’t until 2020 that I chose to do it with intention: not just have plants, but actually grow them, care for them. In the midst of the chaos, I grounded myself with plants. It was something to do, a bit of purpose in times of uncertainty.
When it comes to plants, I started off knowing very little about their care, about their needs and even less about my role in the process. One plant became three, which became eight and by the third year I had close to 30 in the house and a small vegetable patch outside. It was a bit of a steep learning curve, but eventually I became more observant and in turn, more confident. There’s a seemingly infinite amount of resources, opinions and recommendations off- and online, and while a lot of what I came across was relevant and helpful, the most valuable thing I learned was to really pay attention.
OBSERVING THE PLANTS AS THEY ARE
Being observant in and of itself didn’t create better conditions for the plants in my house, but it allowed me to notice subtle changes. Changes which then helped me filter through the troughs of information to identify what was really going on and determine a course of action.
How do I know when to water them? How do I know if they have enough light? Well, I watch them day to day and notice how they change, then respond to their conditions. Is the soil wet? Is there mold present? Are the leaves perky? Are their tips dry? Are they putting out new growth?
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As much as I wanted a guide to tell me specifically when to do what, I never really found it—there is no way to account for all the possibilities. Every plant is different and responds differently to different conditions. Some thrive in full sun, some love shaded spaces, some respond to high humidity, while others have evolved to adapt to an arid climate. Some I water daily and some I water once every three months. I have plants that put out new leaves every few days and have a tiny cactus that has not grown in three years.
The first year of having that little cactus I was constantly worried that because it wasn’t visibly growing, it was probably (almost surely) dying. The second year, I accepted that maybe it wasn’t dying, but I still spent way too much time pondering “but why won’t it growwwwww?” By this third year, I no longer worry about this little cactus. It is the size it is and it is doing its best in the conditions it’s in. I, on my end, do what I can to make those conditions the best they can be.
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UNDERSTANDING THE CONTEXT WHERE WE ARE
The reality is that cacti did not evolve to thrive in my cold, humid Dutch house, and even with all of my effort, there is only so much I can do to influence the conditions that surround us. I observe and respond with water, nutrients and light, but I’ve also accepted the limitations at hand: I cannot realistically reproduce desert heat and sun. There are inherent constraints to the mere concept of house plants and knowing that goes a long way in working to care for them.
Ideally, I would have only plants that thrive in the climate I exist in, but life isn’t always ideal. Day in and day out, life just is. Sometimes there are two fiddle figs abandoned on a corner that I decide to take in, or I’m given a free tiny cactus because the plant store probably wants it to die somewhere else, or I find a cutting on the ground and pick it up to root later at home.
I started with the little cactus convinced that if I did my part, it would do its part. A state of mild delusion where I somehow convinced myself that the plants in my house owe me visible growth, that my mighty human position would overcome evolutionary responses. There is something humbling about three centimeters of cactus teaching me life lessons.
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WORKING WITH MYSELF AS I AM
I like having plants because greenery feeds my soul, and wandering over to look at them and check in on them gives me quiet moments of pause and reflection throughout my day. However, as much as I like having plants all over the house, I’ve learned to concentrate them in one or two general areas. When I have them spread out all over, the chances increase that I’m going to forget about one or some of them. What I cannot see, might as well not be real.
I have a bingo drum for a brain, which means that there’s a lot going on up here and it’s hard for me to remember things. Sometimes the things I forget I end up dreading, and I spend more time than I care to ‘dreading’ things. This, combined with my avoidant tendencies, means that I will realise that I’ve forgotten about a plant, feel disappointed to have done so, and instead of having whatever human feature makes one resolve the situation, I will avoid that room all together for weeks.
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Unsurprisingly, the long-neglected plant eventually withers in the less-than-ideal conditions I failed to notice mainly because I really just didn’t want to look.
The plant is screaming at me from the other room, yet my position of relative power makes it impossible for me to hear it. And thus, because I know I’ll avoid going into rooms, in order to avoid facing my neglectful habits, I keep all plants in the same room, particularly in the room where I spend the most time.
This means that I see them every day, I notice how their leaves move up and down throughout the hours, I notice how they drop more drastically when they are thirsty or start withering a bit when the windows get too cold. I notice when the intense sun is scorching the edge of a leaf through the window. And in this way, I get to know the plants I share space with and can respond to their needs. I don’t just come in one day after six weeks avoiding the spare bedroom to see a dead, withered mess and wonder how this could have happened when “everything was fine just the other day!” I notice the slight shifts routinely and make adjustments in real time.
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GOING FROM THE GARDEN TO THE ORG THEN
Only through observing, have I found a way to both understand the plants and who I am when caring for them. Because of this, I’m infinitely better equipped to influence the conditions under which we co-exist and thrive.
As a leader in a workplace setting, just like as a gardener, I don’t need to have all the answers, but I do need to be observant: Observant of the people on whom I have influence, observant of the conditions and constraints under which we exist, and observant of myself and the power I hold in my position. On power, it is important to recognise that it isn’t just determined by an organisational chart, but rather from a combination of our various identities, skills, characteristics and behaviours.
I’ve experienced equivalents to the ‘avoiding the plant in the spare bedroom’ scenario above. Sensing something is slightly off in a one-on-one dynamic, but choosing to let it go because “maybe it will resolve itself”. Later convincing myself that if anything was really up, they’d for sure let me know, failing to account for the often-present power imbalance.
Only by paying attention to our people can we learn what they need to do their best work and be their best selves. I can live in my delusion telling myself that the plant in the spare bedroom died out of nowhere. But if I’m honest with myself, I know I didn’t hold up my end of the bargain. I didn’t pay attention, I didn’t provide for basic needs, I just looked away and hoped for the best while doing the least.
Too many leaders look away and hope for the best while doing the least, then stand Pikachu-faced when their people disengage or leave.
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CONCLUSION
How do I summarise the lessons I’ve learned? I’d say: complexity, influence and constraints.
- Complexity → every individual is unique and complex. Only through treating people as individuals and making room for their complexity, can I set down the foundation of healthy dynamics.
- Influence → we all have influence to some degree in different contexts. Making room for complexity is crucial regardless of if I’m doing that for myself, a colleague, a team or an entire organisation. My power, access and resources may vary, but my ability to step into my leadership with a nurturing lens does not.
- Constraints → Natural, societal and/or organisational limitations mean that we can do the best we can within our sphere of influence and still be constrained in how much we can enable ourselves and others to thrive. Having influence does not mean having control and understanding the limitations of our power allows us to manage expectations and choose realistic paths of action.
Based on those lessons I’m working to develop the Nurturing Leadership series, where I share:
- The theory behind our lens at Aponwao → Systems-thinking and critical-thinking, and
- The tools we use routinely → the Bridge&Map Methodology and the Critique&Promise Framework.
This lens and these tools are what primarily guide my work: how I develop strategies, as well as how I engage with the people who implement them (including myself!).
The practicalities of engaging with people are significantly different from the practicalities of plant care, but the core of it is the same: it comes down to paying attention. When caring for plants, we don’t instruct them on how to grow, flower or fruit. We create and maintain the conditions that enable them to engage those behaviours.
In that same vein, truly leading teams has less to do with specific technical instruction and more with creating and maintaining psychologically-safe, communicative spaces that enable people to do their best work.
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