Since March, I have been working on a garden with friends. I’m happy to be growing again. We’re in a good rhythm where we have a weekly workday together, and she does watering and weeding through the week.

While my friend and I were gardening, she looked over to the Bird of Paradise, a bush I have made consistent small prunes to over the months, and said, “That bush really needed that.” I looked at the bushy plant, and every pruning decision I’ve made over the last few months flooded my mind. Instead of launching into a whole pruning monologue, I responded with “I’m excited to see all the new growth. When it flowers, it will be amazing.” It will be amazing. But that monologue has to go somewhere. 

Pruning is a key gardening skill. Pruning plants focuses on where the plant can grow. It changes the number and quality of flowers and fruits. It changes airflow and light penetration. There are even plants that need to be cut all the way back to be more successful next year. Pruning is a way of being in dialogue with your plants to say, “No, no more of this, or this is done.” This is also relevant spiritually. The bible instructs us to cut out sin. We are supposed to remove fruitless actions from our lives. But I think this analogy is more useful than just the idea of cutting out sin. I think it’s helpful for thinking about the power of “no” and what it means to stay focused on living an abundant life. 

Accumulation and addition are natural. As plants grow, they branch to find more light. They grow and split and curve in ways that make sense day to day. Because that’s how plants grow- day to day. They don’t sit down and map out the best way to grow. Day to day, trees grow and stretch and twist and can end up with limbs that cross each other, shade each other, or, worst of all, lean on each other. A tomato vine grows and branches, unconcerned with how dense the branches and leaves get. These are natural processes. They’re necessary for the plant’s growth. But they cause issues. Addition is necessary. But it can cause disease when it is not in dialogue with subtraction. 

It is easy to think of adding one more thing to our schedule. One more superfood ingredient for our dish. Just one more to solve the problem. We are hardwired for addition. And sometimes the most effective solution is subtraction. I could have three volunteer commitments that I make it to a month, or I could make sure I was energized and focused for one. If I found myself exhausted and preoccupied, it would be easy to plan a spa day or add self-care tasks to my to-do list. It would be harder to accept that I should do less. It doesn’t feel natural to take stock of where I’m branching and choose to eliminate that- it’s still productive at some level after all! 

That’s the tension. Pruning is easy when you’re removing dead branches or spent flowers. It’s harder when you have to remove a healthy branch so the other healthy branches can get good airflow to avoid mildew. To cut off a branch that was still productive ‘at some level’ is emotionally difficult. To cut out an activity that was still productive ‘at some level’ is very difficult. When to cut one branch for health of the plant or for the quality of the whole crop is a question of “maximizing” vs “optimizing”. Maximizing would be to keep all branches and grow all fruit, even if they’re small and weird. Optimizing is trying to grow as many as you can without the quality of the fruit suffering. It’s okay to do less, better. 

This is a lesson I think about when I think of pruning in general. Pruning has different goals depending on what kind of plant is getting pruned and I think those too have their own lessons. 

Pruning a leafy plant helps it keep producing more leaves. Harvest or prune a spinach, lettuce, or arugula weekly to get the most produce and to prompt the plant to keep making new leaves. If one of these plants goes on without being harvested it will start to shade itself. It will slow down making good leaves and old leaves that are shaded might start to go bad. Pruning older leaves means the plant will focus on growing new leaves. This makes me think of letting go of the past. Whether the old leaves are good or bad. I snip them to keep the plant focused on making more leaves. Whether what happened in the past was good or bad, there is work to be done here and now, and that’s where our focus should be. When Jesus says “let tomorrow worry for itself” there is a strong implication that we ought to be occupied with the work right in front of us. 

That was easy but pruning soft fruiting plants gets trickier. Think of peppers and tomatoes. To maximize the quality of your fruits, prune every branch. Only let the blossoms and leaves that come from the main stem live and snip every branch as soon as you can see it. This maximizes the quality of the peppers, but you will have fewer by the end of the season. 

Pruning as one choice has multiple impacts. Without sufficient air and light penetration, fungus and disease can threaten the life of the whole plant. Aside from that, if the leaves and fruit are shaded by leaves from other branches the plant may not have enough solar power to grow each pepper to full size, nutrition, and flavor. To maximize the quality of these plants, prune every branch. To optimize for the most fruit you can grow well, prune any branch that would shade another branch. As long as your plant isn’t significantly self-shading, the fruits will be good and you’ll have a lot more. As a lesson, I try to think about what are my warning signs that I’m overextended. With the plants, you can tell when branches are shading each other. For me when I know I’ll have to take time away from a specific activity or from my sleep I know this new thing isn’t taking up “free time” it’s taking up time I’ve already committed. This new thing will reduce the quality of everything else. And that’s how I know it’s time to say “no”. 

Pruning fruit trees is tricky. Different families like different practices so if you want specific advice please ask a local expert about your exact trees. In general we are still trying to avoid branch crossing, shading out existing branches, and increasing light penetration and airflow. When you do this in combination with the specific practices your tree likes, you will notice patches of sun making it under your tree. The soil will stay cool while getting plenty of indirect light and patches of direct light. There are many plants that actually thrive in these conditions. There are flowers that thrive in these conditions. There are crops that thrive in these conditions. By giving up some of the possibilities of your fruit tree you will have better fruits and you have made the space below your tree usable for shade crops. This makes me think of ways maximizing might squeeze out the opportunity for community. If you slowed down and did a little less could you have more time to collaborate with others around you? If you were open to slowing down your commute, could you drive a colleague home? If you were open to being less efficient at work, could you spend more time coaching more junior employees? 

In the garden, I am an aggressive pruner. I think its because I can see how things benefit from “doing less better.” As a spiritual practice I try to reflect on pruning distractions, temptations, branches that have become fruitless. I still have a long way to go in pruning my life as well as I prune my garden. 

Pruning your life 

• Prune like a spinach: Disrupt thoughts or patterns that draw you away from the work and joys of the present.
• Prune like a tomato: Say no to anything that would take time, money, or brain power from something else you’ve already committed to. Sleep is a commitment.
• Prune like a fruit tree: Find something to do less so you are more available for your community.