Don't Rush the Fruit

Cultivating a Sweet Life from the Lessons of Growing Tomatoes

Don't Rush the Fruit

Cultivating a Sweet Life from the Lessons of Growing Tomatoes

I was born on November 14, 1968, in Accra, Ghana. Soon after my birth, my father, Augustine Ebun Diji, a brilliant, educated medical doctor with a medical degree from Ireland’s Royal College of Surgeons, was sponsored into the United States by a group of doctors practicing in Buffalo, New York. They learned about my father’s work as a doctor and professor in Ghana and arranged for my father, mother, and me to fly to the United States in 1969 so my father could develop a private practice and lead as the clinical director of the Buffalo Psychiatric Center.

My father was an avid gardener, or as he was described by our neighbors and friends, a “master horticulturalist.” He beautifully maintained our manicured front yard, hosting hydrangea bushes and trees, evergreen shrubs, rose bushes, maple trees, an apple tree, and most importantly, his tomato (fruit) garden. Every year my father would grow the tomatoes, pick the ripe tomatoes, boil and steam them, then vacuum pack them into jars. He would store the jars on shelves so we could all have food throughout the year. His process of growing and packing tomatoes was awe-inspiring, as he consistently, year after year, grew almost perfect and delicious tomatoes.

My father worked hard almost all of the time. He was very disciplined and diligent. I always wondered when he found time to relax... what was he doing to ease the stress as an immigrant from Ghana living in America during the late '60s, caring for our family and building a medical practice. He always appeared to endure even the most stressful times.

It was a conversation with a good friend not long ago that opened my eyes to how my father took steps to ensure he maintained an inner sense of well-being. My friend and I were talking about being grateful for life and the seemingly long journey towards growing self-love, inner healing, and inner peace. We laughingly acknowledged that change takes a whole bunch of time when in fact we realized it takes a lifetime. We compared ourselves to the life cycles of plants: the plant’s ability to endure harsh conditions yet always consistently expanding and giving. We agreed that plants don’t rush. Plants simply exist, grow, and be.

Don’t Rush the Fruit

Have you ever picked a perfectly ripe piece of fruit? Marveling at its texture, shape, size, and color. Its scent. Its attraction. The kind of fruit with skin that gives just so and a taste bud flavor so rich, sweet, or tart it feels like a reward. That moment of delicious satisfaction doesn’t happen by accident.

That ripe piece of fruit produced such goodness after a long journey outdoors in nature or indoors. It required water, light, and nutrients. Its existence is a culmination of focused efforts involving a long journey of patience, care, and intention.

Just like a tree nurturing its fruit, the growth of our own body, spirit, emotion, and mind requires the same dedication. We often want to rush to the harvest, to see immediate results, but true, meaningful growth is a slow, methodical process. To develop into a truly perfectly “ripe piece” of humanity, there is so much to learn from the careful art of growing fruit.

In our fast-paced world, we’re conditioned to seek instant gratification. We sometimes feel we need to be at our physical peak right now, to achieve emotional clarity right now, or to reach spiritual fulfillment right now. We want love right now and we want to be loved right now.

Acknowledgement and validation now comes from images, videos, texts... what people say or think... what we have... what we want. Yet in many ways we feel unfulfilled since we neglect, first and foremost, to grow ourselves. The process of a plant bearing fruit teaches us a powerful lesson: don’t rush the fruit if you want it to be sweet and juicy.

Consider the Steps of a Successful Harvest

• Being in a location with enough light throughout its development. The plant needs the right environment to flourish. It needs a place where it can absorb the light and energy it needs to grow.

• Maintain consistent watering. Growth isn’t about overwatering; it’s about a steady, consistent, even stream of nourishment over time.

• Enriched soil. The building blocks of life implies foundation is a main element of growth. The foundation matters. The (your) soil must be rich with organic matter and nutrients to support the plant’s entire life cycle.

• Prune regularly. A plant needs to be pruned. This process, which can seem harsh, is essential for directing energy to the most vital parts of the plant and allowing for a healthy, open canopy where light can reach.

• Harvest at the peak of ripeness. Finally, you must have the wisdom to wait for the right moment. Picking too early results in bitterness; waiting too long results in decay.

  
  

This is the very essence of cultivation, and it applies to our lives in every way.

The Four Seeds of Sweetness

The process of growing a sweet, ripe piece of fruit is a perfect metaphor for the qualities we must cultivate within ourselves:

Calmness

A tree doesn’t panic when a storm rolls in or when the days are long and hot. It stands in its nature, rooted and still. We, too, must learn to be calm amid the chaos of life. When we are centered in the Now, we can withstand pressure and focus our energy on what truly matters: our growth. This calmness allows us to be present and to trust the process, knowing that every moment, whether sunny or stormy, is part of our development.

Patience

You can’t force a bud to bloom or a fruit to ripen. You can only provide the right conditions and wait. Patience is the virtue that allows us to trust the timeline of our lives, to accept that some of our deepest growth happens underground, in the unseen moments. It’s the ability to continue nurturing ourselves without demanding an immediate harvest. Patience is a lifetime practice.

Authenticity

A pear tree doesn’t try to be an apple tree. It simply puts its energy into being the best pear tree it can be. Authenticity is about being true to your nature. It means honoring your unique purpose and path, rather than trying to imitate someone else’s. Your particular “flavor” and “texture” are what make you beautiful and valuable. Nurturing your true self is the only way to produce your sweetest fruit.

Gratitude

The final step is to appreciate the harvest. Gratitude is the conscious act of recognizing the goodness in our lives, whether it’s the beautiful leaves, the strong branches, or the final, sweet fruit. It’s about being thankful for the entire journey — the light, the rain, the pruning, and the waiting. Gratitude turns what we have into enough and allows us to savor the sweetness we’ve worked so hard to grow.

Gratitude is about walking up, flowing, going to bed, and being so thankful for the gift of waking up again.

Conclusion

Just like a tree, we must remember that we are a work in progress. It’s a journey of planting, watering, and waiting. And if we give ourselves the same calmness, patience, authenticity, and gratitude we would give to a fruit-bearing tree, the harvest will be sweeter and more rewarding than we could ever imagine.

It is why I am forever grateful to have personally witnessed my father’s teachings about “Not Rushing the Fruit.”"