Harvesting from Old Seeds

Someone asked me last week about my September wins, and I giddily rattled off a whole litany of them. Every big goal I’d set for the year seemed to have turbocharged forward all at once. Last month was a wildly abundant harvest!

Then I thought back a little further.

June me was stuck in the mud. I couldn’t figure out what was worth doing, so I did the only thing that felt worthwhile: I planted seeds. Tiny experiments. Uncomfortable conversations. Asking questions that were answered with maybes and maybe laters. Trying to hold out hope that something would become a big YES.

This September abundance? It’s not because September was rich. It’s because June was brave.

I talk about reflection constantly in my consulting work, in coaching, on the podcast. Research shows that looking back helps us find meaning, discover that hard stuff taught us what we needed, recognize we got way more done than we thought. Research I conducted with Stone Mantel even indicates that people who reflect regularly report significantly higher levels of happiness and life satisfaction. I know ALL OF THIS. And yet I’m terrible at actually remembering to reflect.

Which means that in all of my glee about this bonkers abundant September harvest, I almost missed the real lesson here.

The harvest comes months after the planting.

When we’re in our planting season, it can feel like nothing’s working. We’re showing up, trying things, putting ourselves out there, and seeing exactly zero evidence that any of it matters. The ground looks the same as it did yesterday. And the day before that.

But something’s happening underneath even if we can’t see it yet.

My daughter planted sunflower seeds in May and checked them obsessively for a week. “Nothing’s happening,” she announced. Then she forgot about them entirely. August rolled around and suddenly there were six-foot stalks with massive flower heads. It was as though they’d appeared overnight.

They hadn’t, of course.

So here are some questions worth sitting with this week: