You Can’t Force a Tomato to Grow
And there I was, before the emails start coming in and before the list of things that need to get done takes over the day, I feed the chickens and wander through the garden. Some days I’m looking for the first tomato that’s finally beginning to turn red. Other days I’m pulling a weed I somehow missed the day before or checking to see if the squash bugs have declared victory overnight. Either way, I’m paying attention.
A few days ago, one of the tomato plants caught my eye because it wasn’t keeping pace with the others. It wasn’t diseased, and it wasn’t dead. It just wasn’t thriving the way the other plants around it were. I knelt down and checked the soil to see if it was holding moisture. I looked at the leaves for signs of insects. I noticed how much sunlight reached that corner of the bed and whether another plant had begun competing for space. I looked at the cage to see if it needed another tie before the weight of the branches pulled it over.
In that moment it occurred to me that sometimes we treat people much differently than a plant growing in our garden.
We never ask the tomato, “what’s wrong with you?” We don’t tell a tomato to be more disciplined. I’ve never heard anyone suggest it needed a better attitude, more grit, or a stronger sense of purpose. No one wonders whether the tomato is motivated enough. We don’t stand over it with a motivational speech and expect fruit to appear by the end of the week.
Instead, the gardener instinctively begins examining the conditions around it.
We know that healthy soil matters. Water matters. Sunlight matters. Temperature matters. Pests matter. Protection from hail matters. Every gardener understands that thriving is influenced by the conditions surrounding the plant just as much as the plant itself.
Somewhere along the way, though, we seem to abandon that thinking when the conversation shifts from tomatoes to people.
When someone is struggling, our first instinct is often to offer advice. Work harder. Stay positive. Be more disciplined. Find your motivation. Develop more grit. We talk as though the answer is buried somewhere inside the individual if they would only dig deep enough to find it.
Maybe sometimes that’s true.
But I wonder how often we skip the more important questions.
What conditions are shaping the outcome we’re seeing?
What barriers exist that we haven’t noticed because we’ve been so focused on the person?
What assumptions have we already made about their situation?
What if the environment they’re navigating makes success far more difficult than we realize?
None of this removes personal responsibility. We are responsible to ourselves for the choices we make, and we are held accountable by others for the impact of those choices. At the same time, responsibility doesn’t erase context. A tomato still has to do the growing, but it cannot manufacture sunlight, replenish depleted soil, or remove the insects feeding on its leaves.
The more I’ve reflected on that little tomato plant, the more I’ve found myself returning to the same question in every area of my life. It has changed the way I think about leadership, coaching, parenting, community development, and even the conversations I have with myself on difficult days.
Before I decide what needs to change, have I taken the time to understand the conditions?
It’s an easy question to ask in a garden.
Perhaps it’s just as important everywhere else.
Field Notes
The next time someone, especially yourself, isn’t thriving the way you hoped, resist the urge to immediately reach for assumptions or advice.
Instead, spend a few moments doing what every good gardener does.
Look around.
What conditions are helping?
What conditions are getting in the way?
What assumptions are we making?
What haven’t we noticed yet?
You can’t force a tomato to grow.
You can, however, become the kind of gardener who understands that thriving rarely begins with trying harder. More often than not, it begins by tending the conditions that make growth possible.
