What seed are you ready to plant? By Sarah Murray-Boyd

Some lessons can only be learned by returning to the same place again and again — whether it’s a place in nature or a place in life.

This winter, my sit spot has become one of those teachers.

Week after week, I’ve returned to the same place in my garden to just observe. Among bare branches and tiny buds, I started to realise nature wasn’t only showing me how trees prepare for spring, it was quietly challenging something I’d believed for most of my life. That if I worked harder or moved faster, growth would come sooner.

The more time I spent observing, the more I noticed that the blossoms don’t simply appear one spring morning. They are the visible expression of weeks, sometimes months, of unseen preparation. Energy is stored. Buds slowly develop. Tiny changes accumulate until, eventually, spring reveals what winter has been quietly creating all along.

Nature reminds us that meaningful growth begins long before it can be seen.

And that’s when a simple question emerged:

What seed am I ready to plant?

Three years ago, while walking 1,000 kilometres across New Zealand, one of the most important seeds of my life was planted.

Somewhere along that journey, I began imagining a different future — one centred around spending more time outdoors and helping others reconnect with nature. I didn’t return home and immediately resign from my job or begin guiding forest therapy walks. Instead, that seed quietly took root.

It grew through reflection, study, conversations, uncertainty and dozens of small decisions that, on their own, hardly seemed significant. Looking back, I can see that the business I have today didn’t begin when I left my full-time job. It began much earlier, with that small seed of possibility.

Nature has been reminding me of that all winter.

Maybe this wasn’t the time to set lofty goals or make big changes, and that gentler question was more fitting:

What seed am I ready to plant?

It might be a creative idea, a healthier habit, a difficult conversation you need to have, or simply a commitment to slowing down.

Nature offers us beautiful ways to explore this question. Choose your own sit spot — a place you return to regularly and simply notice what changes. As you witness nature’s slow unfolding, consider what is quietly changing within you.

You might write your seed in a journal — not as something you need to achieve, but as something you want to nurture. Reflect on one small action that will support its growth, remembering that meaningful change rarely happens all at once.

And don’t wait for the blossom before you celebrate. Notice the subtle signs that your seed is already growing: a new perspective, a little more confidence, one decision that feels more aligned with the life you’re creating. These are your first buds.

I’ll return to my sit spot again this week.

To someone passing by, it would probably look much the same as last week. But I’ll know that isn’t the whole story. Beneath the bark, inside the buds and below the soil, spring is already being prepared.

Perhaps our own lives are much the same.

What seed are you ready to plant?

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Want to experience nature and forest therapy for yourself?

Join one of Sarah’s public walks – dates, locations and bookings on her website.

Contact Sarah to work together 1 on 1.

Or learn more about nature therapy on Sarah’s Facebook, Instagram, or her articles and notes on Substack.

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