The Wisdom of Succulents

I was on a call with my colleague Katarina the other day.  We had a meeting about leadership and how to create opportunities for our colleagues.  At the outset, in those first moments of social connection, she mentioned, in passing the at she has a green thumb, but only for succulents. It’s a simple admission, the kind of self-deprecating confession gardeners make when comparing their brown thumbs to someone else’s greenhouse abundance. I enjoyed the specificity.  Not that she can’t keep plants alive, but that she has found the ones that work with her rhythm, her attention, her way of caring.

She shared that she waters her succulents from the bottom, letting the plant draw up what it needs, finding that it  works better than pouring water from above. The soil absorbs moisture upward through and when it’s adequately saturated, the uptake slows. Remove the pot, let the excess drain away, and you’re done for a week or two.

I immediately felt the link to people and have spent some time thinking on that connection over my holidays.  

This type of bottom watering is not how we typically think about nourishment. Our 

instinct is to give from above; to pour out what we think is needed, to drench the surface, to make sure our care is visible. But this approach to succulents suggests something different. It suggests that sustainable nourishment can come from creating conditions rather than imposing solutions, that growth happens from the inside out, and that sometimes the most loving thing we can do is provide access and then step back.

The Foundation Matters More Than the Surface

When moisture comes from below, there’s an incentive for roots to grow deeper. They reach downward, strengthening the entire structure of the plant. Surface watering, by contrast, can encourage shallow roots. The plant learns to expect resources at the top and never develops the depth to sustain itself through harder times.

The same is true for people. We can pour advice, solutions, and help over someone from above (and sometimes they need that) but sustainable growth requires something different. It requires building from the foundation: core values, deep understanding, internal strength. When we focus only on surface-level fixes, we create dependency rather than resilience. When we help people develop their roots (their sense of self, their critical thinking, their inner resources) they become capable of drawing what they need from their environment, of sustaining themselves.

Think of education. We can fill students’ heads with facts (top watering), or we can teach them how to think, question, and learn (bottom watering). The latter takes longer. It’s less visible. But it creates people who know how to find what they need, who keep growing long after they’ve left our care.

You Cannot Force Absorption Beyond Capacity

When you bottom-water a succulent, the soil draws up moisture until it reaches saturation. At that point, the system has absorbed what it can hold. You can leave the pot in water longer, but the fundamental capacity doesn’t change - and if you overdo it, you risk waterlogging and rot.

We often forget this with people. We want to help so badly that we pour and pour - advice, resources, opportunities, love - without recognizing that there’s a limit to what anyone can absorb at a given time. And when we exceed that capacity, we risk doing harm. Just as overwatering causes rot in succulents, overwhelming people with more than they can integrate can lead to burnout, resentment, or a kind of emotional drowning.

This is perhaps hardest for parents, teachers, managers, friends who love deeply. We see potential. We see need. We want to give everything we have. But people, like soil, have their own saturation point. They will absorb what they’re ready for, and no amount of additional input will change that. Sometimes the most loving thing we can do is provide access to nourishment and then trust the system to draw what it can actually use.

The Best Support Is Often Indirect

You don’t water the leaves of a succulent when you bottom-water. You don’t even address the soil directly from above. You create the conditions; a dish of water, adequate drainage, the right environment - and you let the whole system work as it was designed to.

In life, this translates to a quieter, less controlling form of support. Instead of trying to manage every detail of someone’s growth, we provide stability, opportunity, and space. We create an environment where they can reach for what they need. We trust the system, like the person’s own capacity for growth, their innate wisdom about what serves them.

This is harder than it sounds because it requires us to relinquish control. It requires faith that if we set up the right conditions, growth will happen without our constant intervention. It means accepting that we cannot force outcomes, only create possibilities.

What Succulents Actually Need

The truth about succulents is simpler than all the techniques: they’re drought-adapted plants that store water in their leaves and stems. They’re built for scarcity. Overwatering is their primary killer - too much moisture causes root rot, fungal problems, and eventual death. They need well-draining soil, infrequent watering, and the space to be what they are.

Whether you water from the top or bottom matters less than understanding this fundamental nature. Some gardeners swear by one method, some by the other. What matters is recognizing that these plants don’t need constant attention. They need the right conditions and then to be largely left alone.

The same might be true for people. Some of us thrive not with constant intervention but with the right environment and trust. We need someone to set up the conditions - emotional safety, access to resources, genuine care - and then believe we have the wisdom to draw what we need.

Katharina and Her Succulents

So Katharina does well only with these plants. Maybe it’s because succulents forgive her busy schedule.  But maybe it’s also because she has learned something that many of us struggle with: how to provide what’s needed without overdoing it. How to create conditions rather than force results. How to trust that living things have their own wisdom about what they require.

There’s no shame in being someone who does well only with succulents. In fact, there’s wisdom in it. It means understanding your own rhythm and finding what works within it. It means accepting that you cannot be everything to every plant, every person, every situation - but you can be exactly right for some.

The succulent doesn’t judge the gardener who forgets to water it for two weeks. It simply waits, drawing on its reserves, ready to drink when the opportunity comes. It grows slowly, steadily, from the roots up. It takes what the environment provides and leaves the rest.

Perhaps we could all learn to live a little more like that - reaching deep for what nourishes us, absorbing only what we can truly integrate, growing from the inside out. And perhaps we could all learn to love a little more like someone who understands bottom watering: providing access, creating conditions, and trusting that those we care for have their own wisdom about what they need to thrive.

In the end, the lesson isn’t really about plants at all. It’s about the difference between control and trust, between imposing and providing, between forcing growth and creating the conditions where it naturally occurs. It’s about recognizing that the deepest nourishment often comes not from what we visibly give, but from what we make available for others to draw upon in their own time, in their own way, according to their own deep and quiet wisdom.

Katharina knows this. The succulents taught her. And in teaching her, they taught me, too.