The Redirection
A "Sunday Reflections" Series
I bought this fiddle leaf fig from my neighbor in January. They were moving to Barcelona and couldn’t take it with them. Knowing how much we love plants, they were relieved it was coming to a home where it would be cared for.
We placed it beside our French doors where it would receive the most sunlight. For months it flourished.
Then I began to notice that one side, which once felt majestic and beautifully balanced against the other, had become too heavy. Its branches stretched farther and farther outward until the weight began pulling the entire tree off center.
Oddly enough, I loved it. The asymmetry gave it character. The way its branches draped over my little meditation table felt almost like an embrace. But eventually I knew something had to change.
I’ll admit, I went back and forth for days. It felt less like pruning a plant and more like cutting off a limb.
What if I harmed it?
What if it never recovered?
I researched how to make the cut properly. Then, before I picked up the shears, I did something that felt completely natural to me. I asked the tree for permission.
Two months later, something beautiful happened. New leaves began to emerge. Bright, vibrant, almost luminous. The older leaves seemed stronger too. They stood a little taller. They caught the light differently. The entire tree felt…lighter.
What stays with me isn’t that talking to plants somehow made a difference. It’s that paying attention did. Seeing what was happening before it became irreversible. Having the courage to make a change, even when it felt uncomfortable.
Because this wasn’t really a pruning. It was a redirection.
Today the branches stand taller, drawn back toward one another, finding support instead of pulling away. Together, they reach upward again.
Nature has a quiet way of reminding us that growth isn’t always about adding more. Sometimes growth asks us to release what has become too heavy, so that life has somewhere new to grow.
