Hi Reader,
I've become a little obsessed with summer dahlias here in the mountains.
So earlier this spring, I decided to try growing my own. I picked out my first dahlia tubers (more than I needed—just in case!), took a deep breath, and hoped for the best.
To my delight, they're coming up. This weekend I spent time repotting them into bigger containers, adding fresh soil, giving them water and nutrients, and tucking in a few bright annuals for extra texture. My patio is starting to look... prettier. More alive.
I'm not a real gardener—I'm a dabbler at best—but I have a neighbor who's the real deal. An older, graceful Southern woman with a kind smile and dirt under her nails, she's out there every morning, pruning, watering, tending.
Years ago after moving in, I was nervously pulling weeds, afraid I might uproot something precious by mistake. She smiled and said: "If it's not growing where you want it, it's a weed."
Her wise advice applies to oh-so-much more than gardens! I used to be afraid of getting it wrong. Second-guessing so many things. Now I’m slowly trusting myself more.
So why the gardening story? Because the parallels to community building might give you some sweet relief, too.
We've been conditioned to think about community like construction projects. We draw up perfect plans. We set timelines. We measure progress in concrete milestones. We expect that once we "launch," we're done—like cutting a ribbon on a finished structure.
But communities aren't buildings. They're living systems made of real people in all their messy imperfections and humanity.
Your community is more like a garden than a building.
Buildings are rigid. Once the foundation is poured and the walls are up, major changes are expensive and disruptive. You can't easily move a load-bearing wall because you realized the flow doesn't work.
Gardens on the other hand adapt. They respond to seasons. They surprise you with what thrives and what struggles. They teach you patience and observation.
What Gardens Teach Us About Community
Gardens require different care in different seasons.
Right now, you might be noticing that your community seems quiet. Just like farmers let fields lie fallow, our communities need rest to grow. Not everything needs to be visible to be meaningful.
Take advantage of the slower times to do some deep work. Or just care for your soul and that of your members. Summer is a wonderful time to go inward, reconnect with your members, and listen. Make time for conversations with them. Experiment.
Maybe you're planting—nurturing those first tentative connections between members. Or pruning—letting go of strategies that no longer serve the whole.
Gardens start with seeds, not grand reveals.
You don't plant a garden and expect a harvest the next week. You water, you wait, you trust the process.
In your community, those seeds might be a simple weekly ritual, a small group gathering, or even just consistently showing up in your members' DMs.
Some seeds sprout quickly. Others lie dormant until conditions are just right. Patient tending precedes germination, growth, and eventually flowers or fruit.
Many of us feel the familiar tug between wanting to implement everything at once and knowing that sustainable growth happens slowly. Give yourself time and space to bring fresh ideas to life.
Gardens thrive on diversity.
The healthiest gardens aren't monocultures—they’re better off with different varieties that complement and strengthen each other. Your communities work the same way. They bring together different types of people who each contribute something unique to the ecosystem. Your quiet observers are just as valuable as your active participants.
Digital spaces offer us unique benefits here—we can connect people across timezones and miles, helping them benefit from different cultures and perspectives, broadening our scope without having to leave our homes.
Gardens need weeding.
Sometimes you have to remove what's no longer serving the whole. Maybe it's a practice that felt right six months ago but now creates overwhelm. Maybe it's gently redirecting conversations that don't align with your community's values. Or curating past recordings to help members know where to focus.
Remember my neighbor's wise words: "If it's not growing where you want it, it's a weed."
Tending a garden doesn't mean letting everything run wild. As community leaders, we're stewards—watching closely, noticing what's thriving and what's not, making choices that serve the whole.
Sometimes that means trusting yourself enough to say, "This no longer belongs here." Sometimes it means holding boundaries or gently course-correcting. Your discernment is a form of care.
Think cultivation, not control. We're creating a healthy space where growth is possible—for everyone.
Patience as Strategy
When we treat our communities like gardens, we're less stressed and our to-do lists feel more human.
We're not frantically trying to construct something perfect from day one. We can let go a bit and sit back—observing, adjusting, and growing alongside our members.
Community building is less about having all the answers and more about creating conditions where members flourish.
We build our communities not for the who, but with the who.
In a world obsessed with viral growth and instant results, choosing the garden approach feels softer—and to some it may even seem a bit radical. It means measuring success not just in membership numbers, but in the quality of connections forming. Being okay with seasons of slower growth.
Your members don't need you to have built something perfect. They need you to create space where they can grow, connect, and find the path forward to the transformation you promised.
That happens one conversation, one small moment of recognition, one gentle act of noticing at a time.
So if you're feeling pressure to have it all figured out, to launch something polished and complete—take a breath. Plant some seeds. Tend them with care. Trust the process.
Your garden is already growing, even if you can't see all the shoots yet.
What seeds are you planting in your community this week? Hit reply and let me know. I love hearing about the small experiments you're trying.
With care and curiosity,
P.S. If you're ready for deeper support in cultivating your community, we explore all of this and more inside The Hive. 🐝 It's where community builders come to share what's working, troubleshoot what isn't, and remember that we're all tending our community gardens together. You can join us here or book a face-to-face chat here.
