WTL Issue 020 | March 25, 2026 |
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Tending What Grows
Lessons from the Long Haul
Something caught my eye just left of my shoulder. A canoe-shaped flash of green sailed through the air before landing softly in the dark soil a few feet ahead of me. I spun around. No one there. But I wasn't alone.
The garden row stretched fifteen feet end to end, just enough space to disappear into if you stayed low. Pea leaves rustled. Then, plop: a shell dropped from above, catching in my hair before tumbling to my feet.
Growing up, my mother planted large multi-row gardens in our backyard. Carrots, shelling peas, potatoes. Once the pods grew fat and hung heavy, it was time for what we called the pea wars. My parents are both around six feet tall, so they were easy to spot over the trellises. The rest of us had to be strategic. Cousins and friends would join in, each with their own plan. The only rule: you had to eat every last pea in the pod before you could throw the shell. A truce was only called when we were all full of peas and smiles.
I didn't have words for it then, but the garden was teaching me something. We learned to read the plants, to know which pods were ready and which ones needed more time. We learned not to trample the rows no matter how rambunctious things got, to form alliances when someone was getting ganged up on. We learned to tend the early sprouts carefully and share the harvest without keeping score. The garden was offering us something, a gift of joy, nourishment, and connection that asked only for our care in return.
My core values have always centered on responsibility and connection. I can trace both of them to that garden. Responsibility asks me to consider my contribution to my broader Indigenous community, to care for the environment, and to care for each other. Connection goes deeper than identifying what links me to someone else. It starts from a premise that all things are already related, so you know to be looking for the connections around you, sharing what you see, linking together people, resources, and perspectives.
Values form early, often before we have words for them.
Field-Tested: Values First
When a new project or opportunity lands in my inbox, my first filter isn't the budget or the timeline. It's my values.
I first did a values exercise in 2019 when I was revisioning my consulting practice. I landed on six values, grouped into three clusters, and those values served me well for years.
Then recently, reading Brené Brown's Dare to Lead, I found myself sitting with her push to get down to just two values. That sent me back to my list, and back, as it turns out, to the pea patch. Tracing where these values showed up earliest in my life is what got me to responsibility and connection.
If you want to try a values exercise yourself, here is a way to start.
Find a values list. Brené Brown has one, James Clear has one. Read through it and choose one that feels right.
- Circle anything that feels essential, not aspirational. Aim for no more than ten words.
- Group the ones that feel related. Ask yourself: which words do you return to again and again? Which would you feel the loss of if they disappeared? Push toward two or three.
- Sit with those final words. What does each one mean in your life? How does it show up in the decisions you've already made? What does it look like in action, on a hard week, when something has to give?
- Trace each value back. Where did it show up first? A place, a person, a moment you keep returning to. That's often where the real clarity lives.
Brown's worksheet and instructional podcast are a good place to do deeper.
Once you know your values, they change how you work. I've used mine to choose partnerships carefully, to say no in ways that opened better doors, and to find more ease in navigating the line between my home and work lives. Values aren’t identified once and put away. You’ll need to return to them, test them against the decisions in front of you, and pay attention when you’ve drifted.
The pea patch logic still applies: tend what's growing.
Signals & Shifts
Molly of Denali, the animated series that grounds every episode in an Alaska Native value, has a downloadable poster of common values across Indigenous groups in Alaska. Grandpa's Drum is worth a watch for adults too: through one family's story, it quietly illuminates why cultural identity and heritage matter, and what is lost when traditions are silenced.
Why Core Values Matter (and How to Get Your Team Excited About Them) — Gleeson makes the case that organizational values only take hold when they shape how people operate, behave, and interact every day. Worth a read if you're thinking about how your personal values translate into your team culture.
Question for reflection: What is a value that has been quietly shaping a decision you are working through right now?
Take good care of yourself and the work that's yours to do. Both matter more than you know.
Nikoosh
Work That Lasts arrives every other Wednesday. Forward to a colleague who might need these tools, or reply and let me know what's working in your own practice.
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