Perennials and Pollinators

Over the past year, I’ve been thinking a lot about how to make my consulting business healthier and more sustainable. Prompted by a coach to write about what that might look like, I naturally stepped into a garden metaphor, and out poured the idea of perennials and pollinators.

If what I’m cultivating with my livelihood is a garden to nourish and sustain me, both in terms of my physical, material needs (financially) and in its beauty (creativity, feeding my soul), then both perennials and pollinators are something that I need to have.

On one level, perennials (like those plants that stay with us from year to year) could be viewed as repeat clients, retainers, or those elusive (perhaps even mythological) “passive income” streams that are somewhat consistent, steady, that you can count on to be there for you. With the right care, they survive the seasons of ups and downs and can get you through the lean times.

Pollinators, perhaps just as obviously, could be seen as connections or colleagues who carry new opportunities or ideas your way. They may make an introduction or referral, give a testimonial, or otherwise bring extra life to your business. They can also help illuminate places where you need to bring new energy or where cross-pollinating some of your own overlooked ideas could lead to something new and interesting.

But I’m not suggesting we all categorize certain kinds of clients as perennials and certain colleagues as pollinators and simply go about trying to attract more of them. Because perennial and pollinator aren’t fixed types of people or organizations, they’re roles.

We can ALL be someone’s perennial or pollinator. Unlike in the garden, where an asparagus is an asparagus and a honeybee a honeybee, we can slip in and out of those roles in the doing of them. I could be a perennial to a colleague by being a good friend, by being there for them. I could be a pollinator by sharing an RFP, having a generative conversation, or just giving encouragement and shining the light they need to plant a seed and grow.

It’s like a community garden. We’re all trying to grow something, and garden ecosystems aren’t all about competition but about literally growing the pie.

Yes, we each have our own square footage or allotment that we’re responsible for planting, cultivating, and harvesting. But look at those pollinators flying around between us. Those connections and catalytic conversations are happening across our individual plots and helping nourish the whole big garden. And check out those perennials that we can choose not to hold so jealously but share with one another and advise one another on how to nurture, care for, and grow.

Each of our little gardens will look and be totally unique to us. This isn’t a homogenizing enterprise. We may be growing some of the same things or wildly different mixes of veg, fruit, and flowers. Some of us may, frankly, not be the very best gardeners. But we can share tools, expertise, plant cuttings, stories, and revel in the beauty of what we’re creating. If we’re doing well, we can each feed ourselves, but if we’re doing REALLY well and creating a shared sustainable—regenerative—ecosystem, we can all contribute to a garden feast.