Lessons From Nature: Cut It Off

I let out a quiet gasp, trying my best not to be dramatic about a mere wooden stick.
I was in the middle of a farm in Carpentaria for the final day of my Plant Identification course. My teacher was demonstrating how to propagate a tree. She held a clipping from a branch in her hand and ruthlessly cut off a bulb that was just about to bloom into a beautiful white flower.
“We need to cut off the bloom, otherwise too much energy will be sent to it. We need the energy to be sent to creating roots.”
It seemed a little sad, to end this flower’s debut to the world in the name of the roots. They would grow underground for months, doing work that we couldn’t see or admire.
I get the same melancholy when I prune in my garden. But the pretty little flowers on my tomato plant must be plucked to create the juiciest, most nutritionally dense summer tomatoes. And when a beautiful but ‘useless’ vine shoots off from my pea plant, I throw it in the compost pile.
This redirection of energy is a necessary part of growing a healthy, fruitful plant.

Driving home from my propagation lesson, I was still thinking about that innocent bulb. It was probably blown into the wind and off into the Pacific Ocean by now.
I pondered: “Have I pruned enough in my own life?” After all, I’m like a houseplant, potted in a finite space, with limited precious energy to grow.
The message was particularly poignant because of my recent life choices. I just ‘pruned’ off my job after experiencing burnout combined with a conviction to focus my energy elsewhere.
It occurred to me that burnout is just the unwillingness to cut off unnecessary branches.
When I arrived home, I looked around my apartment. It suddenly seemed FULL of unnecessary things.
My closet bursting with clothes I hadn’t worn in years.
Books I was holding onto with no intention of opening again.
At least twenty iphone chargers.
My living space is like a garden. The environment I’ve chosen to support my growth. Were these items helping me grow more fruit?
I don’t think that old copy of “The Challenger Sale” is nourishing me anymore.
After a few days of purging, and now with a trunk full of items to donate, I am pondering the less visible expenditures of energy in my life.
I, like much of humanity, tend to favor the short-term wins. I want to burst with pretty flowers that I can show to the world as a hallmark of my success and validation.
But am I tending to my roots? Have I nourished my soil? Am I sending energy to the branches that matter?
I’d much rather be a majestic mango tree, bursting with fruit year after year, than a rose in a vase, providing fleeting beauty.
The pretty blooms- the social media posts, the material items, my outward appearance- are mere distractions from where I really need to spend my time.
The fruit- meaningful relationships, creative expression, personal growth- are what deserve my energy.

And now I think about that little bulb at the farm again. As it floated in the wind, it surely spread some seed along the way. By being set free, it was able to bring new life somewhere else. It just wasn’t needed on that branch anymore.
So I don’t need to be afraid or feel like pruning in my life means I wasted energy. What’s no longer meant for me will be free to spread its seed elsewhere, where it is needed.
And so I continue to ask myself:
Where do I want to bear fruit in my life?
Am I giving enough energy there?
What is taking away energy from those things?
How can I redirect?
Thank you nature, for the lesson.






