Before the Bloom: Doing the Work No One Sees

Before the Bloom: Doing the Work No One Sees

We all love the bloom.

The moment things come together. The visible breakthrough. The praise, the clarity, the fruit. But what if the bloom isn’t the most important part? What if the real work—the kind that truly defines a person, a family, a business, even a life—is what happens before anyone sees anything at all?

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, especially as I enter my fifth year of gardening.

Last year was the first time I felt a sense of real success. Not because the harvest was perfect or the yields were high, but because I finally understood the rhythm. I had a better sense of how to prepare the soil. I understood the timing. I had more patience for the failures and enough hope to try again. But none of that was visible from the outside. You wouldn’t know how many summers came before that one—summers full of frustration, replanting, and lessons learned the hard way.

And I think life works like that too.

Slow Work Builds Deep Roots

Right now, I’m working hard to build a sustainable business. One that can run without burning me out. One that delivers meaningful value, not just temporary wins. But that doesn’t come with a shortcut. It’s taking time to develop solutions that are actually scalable. It takes even more time to build a team that’s capable, reliable, and aligned with the mission.

Most days, it feels like I’m still underground—refining systems, writing documentation, training, testing. No one sees that work. There’s no post or product to point to. But I believe it matters. Because the bloom isn’t sustainable if the roots aren’t strong.

Parenting feels the same way.

It’s eighteen years (or more) of intentional, exhausting, often thankless work. You don’t get applause for consistent boundaries or late-night talks or quiet reassurance. You don’t always see the results in the moment. But the investment is real, and it shows up later in the way your children think, speak, treat others, and carry themselves.

Sometimes I have to remind myself that the work I’m doing now matters, even if the fruit is slow.

Quiet Success Is Still Success

A while back, I was part of an AI hackathon and ended up earning some recognition for the work I submitted. It felt good, but it also felt surreal. Because the part people saw was just the surface.

They didn’t see the hours I spent testing tools, studying workflows, and thinking through problems weeks before the competition was announced. They didn’t see the weekends I spent building, revising, scrapping, and starting over. They didn’t see the years I spent refining my craft just so I could be ready when the opportunity came.

So yes, the recognition was public. But the preparation was private. And that’s true for so much of what we do. Whether it’s parenting, building a business, or planting a literal garden—the most important work is the work no one sees.

In Rooted in Love, I reflect on the legacies that shaped me—the quiet sacrifices of my mother, who kept showing up even through cancer; the structure and commitment of my grandfather, who lived simply but left a deep impact. Neither of them were flashy. Neither demanded attention. But they shaped generations.

They bloomed later, through the lives they touched and the seeds they planted.

This Season Isn’t Wasted

If you’re in a season of work that feels hidden, I want to remind you: this season isn’t wasted.

Maybe you’re not being recognized yet. Maybe your garden isn’t producing. Maybe your business isn’t scaling. Maybe your kids aren’t saying thank you.

Still, the work matters.

The spreadsheets. The discipline. The communication. The daily weeding. The messy meals and slow mornings and quiet problem solving.

It all adds up. And it all prepares you for the bloom.

Final Thoughts

Before the bloom, there is effort. Invisible, unglamorous, necessary effort.

If this is the season you’re in, I hope you’ll resist the temptation to rush it or prove something too soon. Stay in it. Steward it. Nourish it.

The rootwork is the real work.

You’ll bloom when it’s time. And when you do, it will be the kind of bloom that lasts.