Currently, I have only one coaching client—a new CEO of a mid‑tier company. Perhaps that is shaped by my environment. After all the chores and the attending at the Zendo, that is the limit of my time and energy. Of course, I could do with some more income for the Zendo, but this universe comes with a stable quantity of time and energy at any point in our life.

We talk every Wednesday. And most often, I end up writing a coaching note on Thursday early morning—maybe word‑smithed by the unconscious. This one, I thought, is generic enough to share with all. And my coaching client too said, “Okay.” So here we go…

Every being comes into this world with some potential. For many, that potential is already aligned with a purpose chosen by Nature. A bird does not wonder whether to sing. A jasmine does not debate whether to bloom. A banyan scatters a million seeds, knowing only a few will take root. That is not failure—it is design. This effortless alignment with design becomes the backdrop against which the human struggle stands out.

For humans, it is different. We are not handed a fixed script. We must discover our purpose, match it with our potential, and then find or create the right environment. Freedom is our gift, but also our burden. Many end their lives without blooming, not because the seed was absent, but because the conditions never came together.

This is not a personal failing. It is the very condition of being human—that unlike the jasmine, we must discover, match, and create. Leaders, too, are not broken when they struggle; they are simply facing the core task of their role.

The Buddha spoke of five hindrances—craving, ill will, sloth, restlessness, and doubt. These are not just inner obstacles; they echo in the organizations we create. Restlessness may look like constant chasing of fads. Doubt may paralyze decision‑making. Sloth may appear as resistance to change. Ill will can poison culture and trust. Craving can drive short‑termism at the cost of deeper purpose. Naming the weed is the first and most critical step.

A new leader is like a gardener. The work is not about being the hero or the smartest person in the room, but about cultivating conditions for growth. The gardener’s first task is to see the seed—the potential hidden in people, in the organization itself. Then to name the weeds—the hindrances that choke growth. Then to clear the ground—removing what suffocates. And finally, to enrich the soil—bringing in new skills, new learnings, new technologies, while protecting the space from storms of distraction.

The banyan does not lament the seeds that do not sprout. Its abundance is its wisdom. For us, the real tragedy is not that every potential is not fulfilled, but that awareness is not cultivated. The leader’s task is not to force every seed to bloom—that is a recipe for exhaustion—but to cultivate the awareness and conditions that allow blooming to happen naturally.

When awareness meets potential, blooming is inevitable.

We may not control every outcome, but we absolutely can cultivate the awareness to see what is true. In that clear‑seeing, the path to blooming naturally reveals itself, for ourselves and for the organizations we lead.