This week I am taking a break from the full-on coaching, speaking and advising of the past few months, which (since April) has seen me working with leaders and Boards in Shanghai, Jersey, Riyadh, Hong Kong and Hangzhou, with stops off at COBIS and IPSEF conferences in London in between; this week, by contrast, I am in Sydney, where I am catching up with a number of school leaders, and laying the foundations for some exciting new leadership team work in the region. And – as anyone who lives in or has visited Sydney will know – I do not have to go far in the city and nearby area to be surrounded by plants.
I love plants. I am not always as assiduous as they deserve in taking care of them at home; despite this, my study often resembles a mini-jungle, and I enjoy breathing in the oxygen that they produce, and watching their shoots emerge or retreat, as the seasons demand. Plants, I often say, are metaphors for the growth that occurs in the coaching process; being surrounded by them, I feel, is as symbolic as it is beautiful. Species of plants may vary from continent to continent, but their purpose and contribution to our world is the same.
So for anyone who ever doubted the power and benefits of plants, here is a short reflection on these quiet, resilient companions of our lives …
Plants hold space in a way that few other living things do; they simply grow, adapt, respond. They are a constant presence that asks for little more than some light, water, and the patience of time. In return, they offer us shade, beauty, nourishment, and a gentle but powerful wordless reminder that growth is always possible – even when unseen, and even when slow. Then, too, there is the ecosystem: plants do not thrive alone. They exist in interdependence with other plants, with fungi and pollinators, and with the air and minerals around them.
In essence, the same is true for leaders and leadership teams. Individual leadership growth is not usually a dramatic overnight transformation, but rather a slow unfurling, a turning of leaves towards the light, a shedding of what no longer serves, a rooting in deeper soil.. Moreover, the healthiest teams I have seen are not always the ones with the most striking blooms, but the ones which have quietly cultivated the conditions in which everyone can grow, with shared nourishment, mutual support, and space to breathe.
So many of the leaders I have worked with this year – across Asia, the Middle East, Europe and Australia – are navigating seasons of change. Some are budding with new opportunities; others are pruning back to essentials. The similarity with the lifecycle of plants is striking.
So as I spend this week navigating the parks of Sydney, admiring the fig trees, and marvelling at the vertical gardens that sprout from the very sides of buildings here, I find myself reflecting with gratitude on the lessons that plants keep teaching me – about hidden energy, resilience, rootedness, and hope.
Plants have long supported human beings – quietly, faithfully, without fanfare. As leaders, we simply need to pause long enough to notice … and learn.
