The Little Fig That Could

Written by Sharon A. Findlay, MS
Director of Administration & Human Resources

I recently found myself searching for fun facts about our namesake tree, the banyan tree. This is how I learned that the banyan tree is actually a type of fig tree. Which leads me to the story I’m about to share: The Little Fig That Could. 

Nearly ten years ago, I found myself in the gardening section of a big box home improvement store. In the fruit tree section, plant starters were piled high atop each other, but it was a phrase on the packaging that caught my eye: “Guaranteed to grow.” I had been hemming and hawing about what plant to buy next and now my mind was made up–it would be a fig tree! After getting all the necessary supplies and the largest pot I could find, I made my way home and proudly planted my new baby fig tree.

Every winter, I would carefully move my growing fig tree to a semi-sheltered spot so that it would have some protection from the freezing temperatures.

Every spring, I would check the tips of the branches to make sure they were still alive.

Every summer, I would drag the increasingly heavy pot back to the sunniest spot in my yard.

And every autumn, I would worry about early frosts in the mountains.

As with many things, there was ... a lot of waiting. It took three years for the tree to bear any fruit. Finally, on year three, I was gifted the most perfect, juicy, ripe fig. 

​But that’s not the important part. The important part was what had happened over those three years. 

For longer than I’d like to admit, I held onto the tag and the receipt. I was determined to have any failures this plant saw to not be my fault. I didn't want to take ownership of the fact that this plant might not grow. I was at a time in my life when a lot of things felt out of my control, including a life altering accident that left me unable to walk. In that season of my life, I needed to be able to point to something and say "See? This isn't my fault!" I needed control of something and was scared to let go and face my fear of failure. 

Over those years, I had been able to do a lot of my own work. I had an incredibly supportive community around me: friends, family, and many healthcare professionals, including a therapist. I was able to see that things that felt out of my control didn’t have to be scary, because things like that accident were truly rare. 

And as for the receipt: I threw it away a few months before my fig tree started to show signs of bearing fruit. I was able to let go of the future I wanted and instead came to terms with the present I actually had. I was able to let go of that receipt because it was no longer about what someone else did or didn't do as it related to my fig tree. It was about me and how I showed up with that process.

What struck me most was how clearly my own patterns were reflected in this experience. If we’re willing to slow down and pay attention, the natural world offers us a gentle mirror for our own growth, healing, and becoming.

Sharon A. Findlay, MS brings nearly two decades of experience in mental health, education, and organizational leadership to her work. She takes a person-centered, relational approach, creating a calm and supportive space where clients can feel seen, understood, and empowered to grow.

Sharon earned her Master of Science in Organization Development from Queens University of Charlotte and is currently pursuing her Master of Arts in Counseling at West Virginia Wesleyan College.