Inguz

Seed analogies are everywhere in self-help and improvement circles, often to the point of overuse. When someone tells me to “plant the seed” or “tend the garden” to achieve my goals, I can’t help but cringe. The image of myself as a divine gardener, planting seeds into the universe and waiting for them to “grow” and “bloom,” feels both overplayed and oddly true.

The truth behind these analogies is hard to deny. Nearly every culture has a seed-growth myth passed down through generations, inspiring people to change and improve. The entirety of human civilization is rooted in this idea—our mastery of planting, growing, and reaping has shaped the world as we know it.

It’s no wonder the metaphor of seeds resonates so deeply. Our lives are intertwined with cycles of growth, from the food we eat to the goals we pursue. Every meal we consume is a reminder of this process—a connection to nature and to the seeds we plant, both literally and figuratively, in our lives.

So, seeds are important. And knowing how to plant them is equally important. If we don’t plant, we’re no different from our hunter ancestors, running with the wolves, chasing herds across the plains. Exhausting, isn’t it? A lot of running. At least a garden doesn’t bolt off while you’re gathering berries.

(See that Buffalo? That’s your dreams, running away from you…)
Gardening and planting were revolutionary for the human race—it’s far less risky and more productive than chasing our food around. Now, let’s flip this analogy and see where it takes us. Replace the word “food” with “dreams.” Our ancestors were chasing their “dreams” across the plains. Sometimes it worked, but it was hard, relentless, and unpredictable. Their dreams controlled them more than they controlled their dreams. Always packing up, moving with the herd, and competing with predators.

But planting your dreams? That gives you control. Your dreams aren’t running away, and you can manage them more intentionally. So, we plant our dreams. Now we’ve got to tend to them and create the right environment for them to grow. Still with me? Feeling the cliché yet? Let’s push further.

Have you ever tried to make a plant grow? Imagine yourself as that divine gardener I scoffed at earlier. You’ve planted the seed, but after two weeks, it’s barely a seedling. Frustrated, you yell at it, “Grow, you little shit, grow!” Did it work? Probably not. If you’ve ever actually done this with a real plant (as I have), you might judge your behavior as borderline insane. Yelling at a defenseless little plant! If you saw someone berating their rose bushes, you’d wonder if they were high or had taken a wrong turn at the dementia fundraiser.

Now, let me ask: Have you ever been the person scolding the rose bushes? Have you planted one of your dreams and then pushed it relentlessly, criticizing its progress? Whether you do this soon after planting or much later, the result is the same—it doesn’t work. Plants don’t grow faster because you demand it. Neither do your dreams.

So, what do plants care about? Water. “Aha!” you think. “I’ll just pour more water on them!” Nope. Overwatering kills just as effectively as underwatering. Dreams are no different—too much pressure, too much effort, and you’ll stifle them. Finding the right balance is key.

And then there’s light. Plants need sunlight, but not all plants need the same amount. Take the snake plant—it’s the ultimate hermit. Barely any water, almost no sunlight, and it thrives. If you’re overwatering or overshining a snake plant, you’re killing it. Now think: Could one of your dreams be a snake plant? Have you been drowning it in attention when it really needs a dark corner and a once-a-month check-in?

Here’s where we reach peak cliché. It’s a word that grates on the senses, like the sound of styrofoam being rubbed together or a fork dragged across a plate. Patience. The dreaded, overused, unavoidable truth. Without patience, you’ll kill your dreams as well as your plants, burn out, and start scolding rose bushes while your neighbors debate whether to send help or just shut the curtains.

Inguz is the ultimate cringe rune. To embrace Inguz is to sit with the awkward, crawling discomfort of patience, knowing it’s the only path to true understanding. Patience is the best gift you can give yourself and your dreams. It doesn’t mean neglect—it means accepting that once you’ve done what’s needed, the rest is out of your hands. Growth takes time. It’s a truth we resist, yet it stares back at us every time we pursue anything meaningful.

So, plant your seeds, dear reader. Let the cringe flow through you. Tend to your dreams. And, above all, have patience.