Like the mesquite tree, we grow in ways that defy expectations—rooted in resilience, shaped by our challenges, and determined to thrive.
The mesquite tree grows determinedly, thriving regardless of its conditions.
In shallow soil, it develops as a bush.
In deeper soil, it matures into a tree.
Where conditions are dry, it extends deep roots capable of finding water. Like strong leaders, it finds ways to sustain itself even in scarcity.
It grows obstinately.
When chopped down to its base, it regrows, strengthened by its roots and inspired by the air around and the light above. True resilience comes not from avoiding hardship, but from learning to regrow.
One day, I randomly thought about mesquite trees, recalling how, as children, we used to pick up the pods from the ground in our South Texas town and chew on them. After a few minutes, the pods softened, releasing a sweet and subdued taste—candy from nature.
They aren’t the prettiest of trees. You don’t look at one and immediately think about God’s glory. Instead, you notice the twisted branches that grow in every direction but up, beckoning you to climb them. These are the trees of my South Texas childhood, their familiar, gnarly, wayward limbs and sharp, repellant bark. Like unconventional leaders, they may not fit the mold, but they serve a purpose.
We were always determined to climb our trees, only to regret it immediately. Our hands and feet burned raw. The sweetness in our mouths faded, unable to redeem such a mean tree. Yet, like challenges in leadership, the lesson stayed with us.
The Power of Adaptation in Leadership
Mesquite smoke is strong, too. My uncle Beto once smoked a brisket at my grandmother’s house, using this wood for the hours-long process. The result was as good as brisket gets, but by the time night fell, the sweet stench of the smoke was everywhere. It lingered in my hair, my clothes, and the meat itself. I washed my hair three times just to get the smell out.
Resilient leaders leave a lasting impact, just like mesquite smoke lingers long after the fire dies down.
When I left the Rio Grande Valley at eighteen, I discovered oak trees, willows, and pear trees. I fell for their aesthetics—the strong, straight, vertical trunks and obedient branches. I planted a live oak in the backyard of my first house, but a hurricane arrived in late summer and split it in two. It was still young, not yet equipped with the girth to withstand the storm’s harsh winds. Over the years, living in Houston, I’ve seen countless oak trees uprooted by hurricanes—lying on the ground, top-heavy and still, their roots exposed—a heartbreaking sight.
However, I have never seen a felled mesquite tree. I cannot recall one from my memory. Perhaps that’s why they grow the way they do—haphazardly and horizontally—to survive the storms. Leadership is about growing in a way that ensures survival, not just standing tall for appearances.
Resilient Growth in Leadership
Maybe that’s why we all grow the way we do—at odds with what we are told is the right way, yet rooted in the only way we know how. We are cultivated by our challenges, shaped by our upheavals.
If we focused on our extraordinary evolutions, appreciated our unique conditions, and owned our stories as the common narrative—rather than following an example that doesn’t match our journeys—what would that mean?
Who could we inspire?
What could we grow?
Wherever you are in your journey, own your roots and grow determinedly, just like those before you.
Grow visibly and proudly.
Grow.
Further Reading on Resilience and Growth
For more insights on resilient leadership and growth, explore these resources:
The Power of Adaptability in Leadership (Inc.)
The Importance of Resilient Leadership (Harvard Business Review)