Perennials Usually Win Out in the End

Sunflowers, marigolds, sweet peas. While beautiful and vibrant when in bloom, I could never bring myself to ignore their short lifespans and load them up in a grocery cart. When the choice is between a flower that will die after one debut and one that is laying down roots for the long haul, I will always choose the latter. 

Sure. I understand the appeal of annual flowers. So many of them burn bright as they approach their expiration date, whereas perennials tend to have modest spurts of splendor. But if I am taking the time to clear dirt, drag around a hose, and do jumping jacks in place of a scarecrow, I want that effort to pay dividends. Give me a native plant that sometimes needs to be trimmed back because it’s “too” hardy and “too” successful. That’s where my money belongs.

With gardening, the cost-benefit analysis always seemed so obvious to me. Steady growth > one big bloom. But I haven’t approached everything this way.

For so long, I was convinced I get bored too easily and always need a new challenge to feel like I’m doing something worthwhile. And it served me well in many ways. But I also recognize that I was chasing praise like a hamster. If we were sitting at a bar and you asked me 5 adjectives to describe myself, one would be accurate, another efficient. (The other three depended on how much I had to drink.)

Fast Forward . . .

Within just 8 months of starting a new job, I was already the second most veteran person in my department. The turnover was astronomical, but I tried to focus on the positives: my manager was supportive and scolded me for staying late, most team members were gracious when I solved their problems, and the CEO had a clear trajectory in mind for me.

But when I received a non-urgent call at 10pm from a coworker, I realized that I had made myself too available. I had given so much to this job, but the same time I was running on fumes was the same time I was past the point of setting healthy boundaries.

That accuracy and efficiency I clung to for years no longer felt like accomplishments.

And that’s why I’m writing this blog.

It’s partially to throw a warning at anyone else who is naive and wanting to give their 140%, but it’s also to keep myself accountable. To some degree, I think we all get some fulfillment and structure from work. But if given the chance, let’s do what we can to maximize the kinds of labor that we enjoy putting our energy towards and reasonably reducing the rest.

There’s no right way to do it, but here’s one attempt.