Pruning

When I first planted a vineyard, I imagined that pruning the vines would be a once-a-year project. I figured I'd get a pair of clippers, walk up and down the aisles, and trim where necessary. And that would be that.

Was I ever wrong.

Particularly in their first few years, when they're getting established, grape vines have a tendency to put out all kinds of unwanted growth. My vines seem especially prone to develop shoots from the lower trunk, far below the trellis line. In theory, those shoots could be left to grow---but they will not be productive, and will simply drain energy that the vine could be putting to a better use. Each morning, as I walk up and down the aisles of the vineyard looking for duck eggs, I also keep an eye on the trunks of the vines. Any little shoots like these that I see, and I immediately pluck them off. Better for the vine as a whole to nip this growth in the bud before letting it take extra nutrients for itself.

And, in that early morning quiet, it occurs to me that this is really a metaphor for ourselves and our own lives: a big part of growing up into mature, responsible adulthood is to scrape off these new little growths that---while not evil or diseased in themselves---aren't compatible with our overall maturity and spiritual health.

It's easy to spot the large dead branches; these are big things that were important to us when we were younger, but that we must "put aside" to concentrate on being a better spouse or parent. For many of us, that might have been a hobby or an athletic pursuit that we really shouldn't dedicate so much time to anymore. You name it. We all had things like that before we got married, and they were probably pretty obvious to most of us---even if some of those big dead branches took longer to actually prune than we'd like to admit.

But these smaller growths are harder to spot, and easier to ignore. They're the selfish tendencies and comfort-seeking that crop up, almost without our noticing, and distract us from doing what we should for those entrusted to us. Maybe they're not a significant drag on us at first, but would surely become so if left to develop. And we need to be alert, to get them at the beginning.

Anyway, that's what I think about in my vineyard.