Water the Plants, Not Just the Deadlines

Written By Tess Calvert

My zinnias are sprouting. My inbox is, too. But only one of them gets watered daily and it’s not the inbox.

Summer has arrived in Phoenix. My kids are out of school, the mornings are still cool enough for bike rides, and I’m finally letting myself slow down just enough to notice: I’m happier when I’m doing small things that are just for me.

Zinnias, cosmos, and sunflowers are poking out of pots and out of the ground in my yard. My tomatoes and a tiny pepper are growing in one of the pots. I fuss around in my yard adding dirt, watering baby seeds, and marveling at what’s blooming.

We Let Our Own Needs Slip—And Call It Strength

Let’s talk about what doesn’t get watered

Our own bodies, our own minds, and the parts of ourselves that aren’t about performance or care-taking.

We skip the workouts, not because we don't care, but because it feels selfish to make time. We cancel our doctor appointments to avoid being "inconvenient" to anyone else’s calendar. We eat whatever is left behind on a kid’s plate or standing up between Zoom calls. We forget water, forget rest, forget what hunger feels like until we’re snapping at someone over something small.

We call it multitasking. We call it being strong. We call it holding it all together. But what it really is? It’s erasing ourselves one small ritual at a time.

It’s time to call it what it is: unsustainable.

And honestly? I still have to talk myself into prioritizing my own care. I’m in my 50s (ugh ffs, getting old is humbling), I’m newly proud of things like going to the doctor, scheduling dental appointments, and not canceling them when work or life gets busy. That feels a little wild to admit, but I know I’m not the only one.  For so long, I tied my worth to what I could produce—for others, for work, for my family. Prioritizing myself felt indulgent. Now it feels essential.

And I’m not alone. This New York Times article highlights just how hard it is for women, especially mothers, to find time for therapy. Not because we don’t know we need it. But because carving out that time feels impossible. The article points to a bigger truth: stress and burnout aren’t just personal problems. They’re systemic ones.

A recent Nature study reminds us that when employees are happy and mentally well, they create more value for their companies. Imagine that! This isn't just about personal peace, it's a business advantage. That same study also underscores that stress and burnout aren’t individual failings. They’re systemic, especially for women.

The world doesn’t just expect us to do it all, it rewards us when we do it quietly.

That’s why I fight for the space to move my body. Especially in the summer, when it’s 115º out and taking a walk outside isn’t really an option, it’s how I get the stress out of my body. I’ve found what works for me. The Peloton is my answer. It doesn’t require me to go anywhere. It’s accessible, quick, and I can shower and get right into work afterward. It fits easily into my day, and it makes a massive difference in how I show up.

There’s a great book called Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle that breaks this down. It talks about how stress lives in our bodies and needs a way out. For me, movement is that exit ramp.

But here’s where I want to land the plane on all this:

Keeping commitments to yourself is radical. Showing up for your own doctor appointments. Protecting time for workouts. Making space for hobbies, not as some reward for productivity, but because they are what keep you whole.

We live in a world that praises the chase, the next dollar, the next title, the next email ping. We’re conditioned to be the first to respond to the Slack message, the fastest to reply to the inbox, the most available, always. But the email can wait. The Slack can wait. You will respond better, smarter, and more grounded if you’ve given yourself the gift of movement, creativity, or just time to breathe.

The truth is, it’s incredibly easy to let things slip when life is loud. And for a lot of us, it’s been loud for a long time.

But I’m learning slowly, stubbornly that I don’t need to do everything. I need to do a few things that delight me. That center me. That remind me I’m a person, not a machine.

Maybe it sounds tone-deaf to point out small joys or ways to care for yourself when the world feels heavy—but honestly, it’s the only way we can stay grounded. These little acts of care are how we stand on our own two feet, ready for whatever fight comes next.

A Few Things That Are Delighting Me This Month

Tess Calvert
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