Paying Attention to What's Growing

I’ve been thinking about gardens a lot lately.

Partly because we actually have one.

There’s watermelon growing around the house, lemongrass, and plants we use for teas, baños, and some of the spiritual work happening here.

And one thing I’ve noticed is that tending a garden is not really about making everything grow as fast as possible.

Some things need more attention than others. Some things need to be cut back. Some seem to grow without much help at all.

And sometimes the best thing you can do is stop messing with something for a while.

I think my life feels a little like that right now.

There are a lot of things I care about. My writing, technology projects I want to build, cultural work, the work my wife and I are doing together, the spiritual work happening around our home, and of course being a husband and a dad.

They are all good things.

Which might actually be part of the problem.

It would be easier if half of it didn’t matter.

But most of it does.

And lately I’ve had to admit something pretty simple:

I do not have enough capacity to grow all of it at the same time.

I know that sounds obvious.

But I don’t always act like it is.

When something isn’t moving as quickly as I want, my instinct is usually to figure out how to give it more time or create a better system around it.

Probably some software too.

But eventually you run into the fact that there is only so much water in the bucket.

Something happened recently that made this even clearer to me.

Our friend Carlos came down from the States and stayed with us for a few days.

For a while now, I’ve had this idea of creating retreat-like experiences here in Honduras.

In my head, I’ve pictured the environment.

A beautiful property.

The right rooms.

Great food.

Intentional activities.

Space for conversation, rest, adventure, and the spiritual work my wife and I have increasingly found ourselves doing together.

Basically, a very specific container for the experience.

And then Carlos came.

He stayed with us at our current house.

There were spiritual massages and other work while he was here. We ate together, spent time around La Ceiba, went over to Roatán, talked, rested and just moved through a few days together.

At some point I realized…

We were basically doing the thing.

It just didn’t look like the version I had been planning.

Our house is not the retreat property I envision.

There was no perfectly designed itinerary.

No chef.

No polished arrival experience.

No beautiful packet explaining what was about to happen.

And yet, a version of the experience I’ve been trying to create was happening anyway.

It almost felt like the universe saying:

You keep saying you want to do this.

Okay.

Here you go.

Do it here.

That stuck with me.

Because I think I can become so attached to the eventual form of something that I miss the fact that it has already started growing.

I’m still going to build the better container.

I still want the beautiful properties and the experiences that feel considered from the moment someone arrives.

But apparently the container isn’t what makes the work real.

The work can happen before all of that is finished.

And that has me looking at other things differently too.

Instead of only asking whether something is growing according to my plan, I’m trying to pay more attention to where there is already life.

What are people responding to?

What keeps showing up?

Where is there energy that I didn’t have to manufacture?

What actually needs my attention right now?

Because I can make a plan for what I think should grow.

Life has a way of showing me what is actually growing.

Those two things do not always match.

I’m trying to get better at noticing the difference.

Maybe this isn’t the season for every project to expand.

Maybe one thing needs more attention while another just needs to stay alive.

Maybe something I thought was supposed to happen now is actually preparing me for something later.

And maybe sometimes the prototype for what I’ve been trying to build is already happening in my living room.

That doesn’t mean I stop planning.

Or building.

Or wanting more.

It just means I’m trying to pay closer attention to what is already taking root.

Not everything needs to grow right now.

And I do want to get better at recognizing what is.

-JP

**What's Going On at Pouncil & Company**

The garden metaphor has been showing up pretty directly in Pouncil & Company too.

I’ve decided to postpone the men’s retreat I had planned for Labor Day weekend.

I didn’t give this version of the retreat the attention it needed to come together the way I wanted.

Normally, I would probably spend a lot of time analyzing what I should have done differently.

And there are definitely lessons there.

But I’m also paying attention to what happened around it.

Carlos came and essentially experienced an early, organic version of the work right here at our house.

I already have multiple people who have expressed interest in coming for a retreat next year.

And recently, we gained a new patron who believes in the work my wife and I are doing and wants to support its growth.

None of those things look like the original plan for Labor Day.

But they all tell me something is taking root.

So instead of forcing the retreat to happen because I put a date on the calendar, I’d rather give the next one the time and attention it deserves.

We’re going to keep developing the work, learning from the experiences already happening around us, and creating the right opportunities for people to come spend time with us here in Honduras.

I’ll share more about the next retreat as it takes shape.

For now, I’m paying attention to what’s growing.