Tending is an Everyday Act
As it often does in the summer, my morning began in the garden. The sky was grey and ominous with a tantalizing breeze – a welcome confirmation of today’s forecast for rain. We haven’t had rain in about ten days, and it has been stinky hot with temperatures in the mid-nineties. Though I have watered a couple of times, the plants are droopy, and some have crispy edges. Today, I focused on harvesting before the promised deluge. As I picked small yellow tomatoes, I remembered the fall greens I’ve been meaning to plant and threw some seeds around in beds already prepared for them. I pulled a few weeds here and there. After about thirty minutes, I came back in for breakfast.
My garden is where I ground and center myself for the day. It’s also a place that can bring clarity to what I am seeing and learning in my work with nonprofits. Lately, as I putter, I’ve been reflecting on the act of “tending” and the ways that tending a garden reflects what it means to tend to an organization as a leader. Here are a few of my reflections:
It’s everyday work
I recently returned from a three-week vacation. A generous neighbor watered the garden and took care of big things like a diseased tomato plant. She did not focus on the weeds as she has her own garden to tend to. That first weekend after our return, I spent a couple of hours pulling robust weeds that were beginning to choke the peppers, eggplants, and tomatoes. It was a good reminder that the few minutes I spend every day pulling weeds have benefits.
What in your organizational culture needs everyday attention?
What happens when you let small interpersonal conflicts fester and grow?
What is the value of regularly checking in with your team to better understand the nascent anxieties that might grow more robust?
Adaptable structures are stronger
I grow multiple varieties of tomatoes. I have some heavy-duty cages, but my favorite structures are pyramids made of three 1 x 2s tied together with jute. I place one seedling at the base of each side of the pyramid and tie the growing plant to the support with strips of old tee-shirt. This year I planted some Sungold tomatoes this way, and they completely outgrew the structure. The pyramid has almost fallen over on a couple of occasions. I’ve responded with supplemental stakes and even tied the whole structure down with a long piece of pink rope. The structure is now holding because it is flexible enough to incorporate these changes.
Are your organizational policies and practices adaptable?
Are there organizational rigidities that are impeding growth and impact?
What have you learned from the pandemic about the need for adaptable policies and structures?
Keep an eye on the forecast
The weather this summer has come in waves. We have had hot and dry periods interspersed with rain, some of it falling gently, some of it in hard deluges. Spring had more than its usual share of cooler days and nights. I lost a few seedlings to a late frost. It took a long time for the tomatoes to get started, and I still have green tomatoes that have been slow to ripen. The kale won the battle against the pests; the chard lost. Every morning, I find myself splitting my attention between what is happening in the garden right now and what might be coming. How much rain are we expecting this week? What will be the daytime highs and the nighttime lows?
What are the elements of your organizational forecast? Do you have data that you regularly track?
How do you keep an eye both inside and outside your organization?
What do you do when the outside forecast looks daunting? How do you help your team prepare and adapt?
Some plans work and many don’t
I planted ten varieties of tomatoes expecting large yields of big juicy slicers for BLTs. Instead, we’ve eaten a lot of cherry tomatoes and few tomato sandwiches. Today’s surprise was two ripe lemon cucumbers. I intentionally grew some last summer; these two were on a volunteer vine. I will enjoy one in my lunchtime salad. The cucamelon (also called mouse melon) that I’m trying out in a pot has turned out to be easy to grow and fun to share with neighborhood children. The tomatillos and ground cherries took up a lot of room and have not produced much. The four eggplants in the refrigerator will become a grilled eggplant salad for tonight’s dinner with friends.
How do you respond to the annoying surprises? What about the delightful surprises?
How do you recognize and celebrate both the planned achievements and the surprises?
How do you learn from what was planned and from what emerged instead?
As I finish this reflection, the clouds are rolling out, the sky is turning from grey to blue, and the sun is shining. The forecast has shifted with the current expectation of only a quarter-inch of rain coming later today. Will the promised rain arrive? Will the garden have to endure another hot day? What will need my attention tomorrow? Will my friends appreciate eggplant salad as much as I do?
Tending is an everyday act, and there will be more for me tomorrow and the next day.
Warmly,
Meredith along with Heather and Charlie