This morning I was in the garden watering a grapevine I planted at the very beginning of my food forest journey nearly 6 years ago. And it’s barely hanging on.

Tiny leaves. No fruit. It’s just kind of surviving.

It’s a reminder of the way I used to make decisions in my life.

When I planted it, I was excited. Excited to grow my own grapes (a tantalizing concept for a Hoosier). But when I went to plant it, I didn’t have what I needed. I didn’t have enough compost ready for it, and I didn’t take the time to dig a properly-sized hole. The soil in that bed is especially sandy and compacted (like concrete!), and I remember thinking, “I’m just gonna get this in the ground.”

And now, years later, it pains me to watch this poor plant struggle. Even though I’ve added compost to the top over the years, the proper foundation just isn’t there. And I find myself getting frustrated with my past self: why didn’t I just take the time and do this properly? Now I have to dig it up and start all over!

But the frustration isn’t really about the grape.

It’s about all the decisions I have made in the past that came from a background belief that there isn’t enough.

Not enough time. Not enough money. Not enough energy.

That was the belief that was still running at the time I planted that grape.

So I rushed. I cut corners. I chose “good enough for now,” and told myself “I just need to get this done,” instead of “I can take the resources needed to do this properly.”

Looking back, I can see how that way of being sometimes created the exact scarcity I was trying to avoid. Now, years later, there are no grapes, no vitality, no abundance. The rushing and "saving" I practiced ended up creating the opposite.

But over the years I’ve been working through this constrained mindset by being more intentional in the garden. I’ve been slowing down, taking my time to research each plant, dig much wider holes, amend the soil, irrigate properly, wait for the right materials….and not surprisingly, my results are completely different.

The plants thrive. They establish. They give back so much more than I put in.

Even better, I enjoy the process. It’s relaxing, satisfying, and nourishing.

Learning to loosen my grip on the need to rush, conserve, and just get it done has been one of the most cherished gifts this food forest has given me. And it's a lesson that the garden patiently reminds me of again and again. Because care, even when it feels slower or more expensive in the moment, is what creates abundance over time.

As I’ve been harvesting bowls and bowls of peaches, apricots, and goji berries this week, the garden keeps showing me: There is enough. And there will always be enough.

And that left me wondering, what other areas of my life am I planting from scarcity instead of from trust?

🧡 Erin