To Prune or Not to Prune
Thoughts on pruning, timing and managing energies
I often find it easy to draw parallels between the natural world and our own lives, as modern and digital as they may be. It seems silly to think we’re any different to everything else around us - plants, animals, seasons, even the stars all move in cycles. And we are no different.
The other day, I was standing in the garden, looking at one of my shrubs and realising it going to need a strong prune sometime soon. Not a tidy-up. A proper cut back. But not yet, too early in the season.
As I stood there, putting my secateurs back in their holster, I started thinking about what happens to perennial plants after that kind of intervention. Depending on the season, of course, a strong prune means they come back stronger; more robust, more lush, with healthier growth and better structure.
Pruning is an act of paring back. Of letting go. Of making space.
That thought landed close to home.
The end of last year felt like a bit of a whirlwind, with life doing it’s thing and throwing spanners in works. These plot twists left me somewhat drained and definitely shook. It took me most of January (honestly, all of January, and probably the first week of February too) to come out of the fog and begin to recalibrate and find my footing again.
Here in Australia, Christmas, new-year and summer school holidays align into one long break. I usually finish work sometime in mid-December, and things don’t properly start up again until late January. It’s a wonderful pause if you can have it, and also, at times, a slightly disorienting one.
Restarting the engine can be tricky. Finding the rhythms again, the pace, the movement, the thinking, the creativity. All of it takes a moment to return.
Standing there with that shrub, I started thinking about how often we hold on to branches that have already served their purpose and will weigh us down in the season ahead. Old habits, ways of working, expectations, even identities, that once made sense, but now just take up energy. In the garden, leaving them in place can lead to weak growth, overcrowding, or a plant that never quite thrives. In life, it’s not all that different.
I like the wild take-over of plants
Path uncovered, accessibility regained
Pruning isn’t about punishment or loss. It’s a conscious choice to redirect energy. To trust that cutting back now can lead to healthier growth later. And while it can look a little stark in the moment — bare stems, empty space — it’s often exactly what’s needed.
I don’t think we talk enough about the quiet strength it takes to do that kind of pruning in our own lives. To slow down and reassess. We rarely have that privilege in the fast-paced hectic life we lead. Who has the mental and physical space to do that in a constant survival mode??
It has taken me a solid decade of intentional choices and hard work to reach a place in life where I am afforded that space. I crossed continents, said goodbye to people and places, shifted my identity, reassessed and changed most of my priorities, to reach where I am now. Lots and LOTS of pruning.
As with the garden, timing matters. Prune too much or in the wrong season and you leave your plant weak and vulnerable. A time to prune, a time to rest and be patient.
New life emerging
Observe, gain insight, rest, wait for the right time, approach with intention and care.
You don’t see the results straight away. But given the right conditions, something new usually finds a way to grow.
I’m trying to trust that process this season. A little less holding on. A little more faith in what comes next. And, as always, learning from the plants.
Have you been letting go and making space for new?
I'd love to hear your thoughts 🌻