I shower with my Monstera now...
Unexpected sabbatical moments and leadership lessons from a plant
I've been thinking a lot about the Monstera plant that lives lived in my bedroom. It's a beautiful bit of greenery that I acquired shortly before the pandemic lockdowns. I've loved having it in my room even if feels a little like a millennial cliche.
It's done pretty well in my bedroom. Until this summer.
In July, I noticed my Monstera was struggling— two of its beautiful leaves, fenestrations and all, yellowing and eventually falling off, sparking an existential crisis about my skills as a plant keeper. IFKYK. That yellowing leaf was a sign I couldn’t ignore.
As I scrambled to pack and close up my house before a ten day trip, I realized my big lush Monstera may not be able to withstand a ten day absence with just a glass bottle watering setup. It hadn't really given me many warning signs - or if it had, I had not picked up on them. Sometimes, the signs are there—subtle, but telling. I was caught scrambling at this sudden and quick turn of events over a couple weeks. Because I would not be around to nurse it carefully back to health I moved it into my shower, drenched it, and left it there. In the shower, it had the light, humidity, and protection it needed.
Fast forward to mid August and this plant is thriving. At first when I returned from my trip I thought to leave it in the shower for a few days before moving it back to its old spot. Pretty soon it became impossible to ignore that this plant loves the shower spot. And while I'd like to think that it's my singing in the shower that has revitalized it, I have a feeling it's the other conditions changing that has resulted in a Monstera plant that has put out new leaf after new leaf. This plant is flourishing.
Now, we could have a whole conversation and probably a separate post about Monsteras, and if you have thoughts on what I should do with this plant, in order to make it not take up my entire shower, I would welcome any of your ideas. I love plants but I cannot say I’m much of a plant curator or tamer. Lazy plant keeper life. I have enough on my hands keeping myself and my pup thriving.
You’re maybe wondering - isn’t this a leadership salon and why are we talking about Monsteras in showers? The shift of the Monstera from one place to another got me thinking about what it takes for us to recognize when our own context is the biggest barrier to thriving. This is a question that has come up often for me during this sabbatical era. I have at times beaten myself up a bit for not recognizing sooner how damaging my previous work experience was on my body, on my creativity, and on my ability to lead with my values. I have reflected on the ways I felt trapped - isolated - physically and emotionally during the last five years, including and especially during the multi-year pandemic lockdowns.
This is something that has been hard for me to talk about, because I had a salary, I had health care, I had food, a beautiful home, my dog. But even with all of that, I spent an enormous amount of that core time in my leadership experience alone or convincing people closest to the organization that I belonged in the room. The people who kept me afloat were a handful of other leaders and funders across the sector.
In the early lockdowns, I sought support from my board but instead received a list of demands. Rarely in those gatherings did I experience camaraderie and partnership in helping me figure out how to change the culture of critique and isolation that was creating an untenable environment for visionary leadership. This was an organizational culture that struggled to honor my expertise as I was different from most of the historic stakeholders of the organization.
But, thankfully, a new volunteer opportunity led me across the world. Through a variety of unexpected events I had joined the board of an Australia-based climate organization. I was the first US board member. In the fall of 2022, it was with a great deal of hesitation and nervousness that I flew across the world to attend my very first board retreat with a group of people I had only engaged with briefly on zoom.
When I arrived in this boardroom, as one of the first women of color, as the first non-Australian in the room, and possibly as one of the youngest in the room, I was curious but apprehensive. I carried with me all that I had gathered from my current leadership experience. Would I be able to bring enough value to make it worth it that I had flown around the world to be here at this moment? What would they find deficient in me? How would I convince them I belonged in this room?
What I experienced was radically different. Stepping into that Australian boardroom changed everything. Like my Monstera plant, I found myself in a warm environment where I could thrive. And I don't mean that just in the sense that my body came alive to be in the Australian sunshine, that I was wrapped in the joyful connection of people across Australia - including becoming friends with my seat mates on my cross ocean flight.
What I mean is that in that board meeting, I gained a felt sense of collaborative, audacious, and inclusive leadership, both from a board perspective and from an executive perspective.
Our two co-executives were grappling with large, complex challenges - how to advance impact while also scaling the right level of organization to meet that impact, how to advance justice, how to move rapidly given the speed of the crisis, and how to address all of this in a world where fossil fuel companies are increasingly on attack. How would this organization evolve to meet the moment at a time when many of us were just beginning to think about what life could look like in a post-pandemic world? None of the questions were easy. And none were ones for which there is a playbook.
What I found in this room was a group of people who wanted to roll up their sleeves, who wanted to create the spaciousness and the perspective so that together, we could zoom out and see where things might connect or where there might be potential solutions. This was a group who oriented towards saying “how do we accomplish this” rather than critiquing. Here was a group of people who are equally passionate and committed to justice, to winning on climate, and to having real impact in the world. Each person owned their expertise, but there was a high level of respect and trust for the expertise of others in the room, including mine as the newcomer and that of the executives, as the people closest to the challenges. For the first time in years, I felt a sense of belonging.
We had a shared purpose. This group of people welcomed me to ask key questions without preface or performance, without over-explanation or justification. In hindsight it was this experience that helped me recognize that I was putting too much energy into trying to change myself to fit my current environment when the founding conditions were off. I was trying to trail blaze in the wrong context and without the right teammates.
It would take me another year and intense health issues to make this realization settle and for me to extract myself out of what had become an increasingly toxic space. Indeed, when I left for Australia my physical health had already been on a decline from the cumulative impacts of work pressures, stakeholder critiques, pandemic isolation, and grief. My leaves were yellowing and falling off, but unlike my Monstera I did not have someone who could easily pluck me from that environment and put me into a new one and say, you can thrive here. Let's take care of you. I had to be that for myself. Thankfully, there were mentors, dear friends, colleagues in the sector who also helped me see the reality of my situation and emotionally carried me as I moved myself from one location to the next.
My sabbatical has given me a chance to reset. As I take a break from formal work to focus on resetting my health, recovering from burnout, pursuing my creativity, and connecting with dear ones – I, like my Monstera, get to experience the ideal conditions for my wellness. As I continue in my Board leadership, now as the chair of the Board where I was once a newcomer, I get to practice hosting Board meetings that are inclusive, support other trailblazing executives to have spaciousness and belonging, and keep us align to shared - audacious - purpose.
If I hadn't had that physical somatic experience of being in that Australian boardroom, understanding what it could look like to be welcomed in my leadership, and being valued without having to further prove myself, I am not sure I would have embraced the courage to change my daily experience. I might have continued to believe the lie that any leadership experience must be endured, not enjoyed, that it requires I sacrifice connection, and that I must be less of myself to fit in.
For so many trailblazers, when we get to that moment of feeling like our work is hitting a brick wall, and when we are up against the counter perspective of powerful stakeholders focused on protecting the status quo, it is easy to turn on ourselves. My experience reminded me that sometimes you can trail blaze in environments that want your leadership and sometimes you’re pushing the boulder up a hill by yourself. I’m grateful to see now that in those moments that feel isolating, the opportunity is for me to look outwards, see the context, and decide if I am even in the right room to begin with.
Now, I have to figure out how to keep both the Monstera—and myself—thriving. How do I make these shifts permanent? How do I dream up my next venture in a way that allows me to lead with my values and my full set of gifts? I know now what I need: leadership experiences that nurture my creativity and joy, connect me with other trailblazers, align with a bigger North Star, and honor all of me.
So I ask you - where do you feel stuck? What might you do to place yourself in a new environment, even if it's just for a week, a day, or an hour? How might you have a somatic experience that unlocks and transforms the conditions in which you lead? If you're noticing your leaves yellowing, what can you do to put yourself in a space where you have the light, water, and protection you need?
Hi Sudha, it’s been nice meeting you in Sustenance lately and reading your writing. I loved reading this post. I resonate with the tension and freedom of changing environments, and I, too, can feel this process of reexamination that you are in. Can’t wait to hear more.
Love this whole revelation- the body is so wise, and plants are such playful teachers. I have learned that one of my default strategies for dealing with overwhelm is to turn in or on myself like you mentioned - I think it has something to do with feeling like I have more control over something uncontrollable? It’s something I am trying to recognize sooner and shift. I love the visual of a happy plant getting sung to in the shower instead, receiving the water and vibes! That’s a way more fun solution than feeling challenged and then berating and shaming myself for feeling challenged ❤️ Thank you!