
The other day, I was walking my dog through the streets near my home — nothing unusual but then something caught my eye.
Growing out of a gutter by the kerb, there was a plant — not just a weed or grass poking through concrete, but something more surprising. I looked closer and realised it was a tomato plant, its tiny fruit just beginning to form.
A tomato plant. In the gutter.
It stopped me in my tracks. Not because tomato plants are rare — they’re not — but because of where it was growing. No garden bed, no pot, no sign that anyone had planted it intentionally. Just a crack in the kerb, a bit of dirt, and somehow… life had found a way.
I stood there for a while, watching this little plant swaying slightly in the breeze, and I was struck by something.
I’ve always loved gardening. There’s something special about planting a seed and watching it become something. The rhythm of it, the patience it requires, and the joy of seeing green shoots poke through the soil — it’s beautiful.
But I’ll be honest: I’m not exactly a master gardener. Some plants thrive, others don’t. I forget to water them sometimes. I’m still figuring out the balance of sunlight and soil and nutrients.
What strikes me, though, is how much care most plants need in order to survive, let alone thrive. You have to choose the right spot, water them regularly, keep pests away, and sometimes even talk to them (if you believe in that kind of thing). Gardens are tended. Nurtured. Protected.
But this little tomato plant on the roadside had none of that. No gardener. No shelter. No special soil or support. Just rainwater, scraps of sunlight between cars, and whatever nutrients it could find in a patch of roadside dirt. And yet… it grew. It was alive. It was fruiting.
Resilience in Unexpected Places
That tomato plant became more than a curious sight. It became a reminder.
It made me think about how often we believe that we need the right conditions in order to grow. The perfect job. The perfect relationship. A supportive environment. The right mindset. Enough time, enough money, enough energy.
And sure — those things help. There’s no denying that privilege, resources, and support systems can make a huge difference in a person’s life. But sometimes, growth happens in the most unlikely places. Sometimes, we bloom even when the odds are against us.
And sometimes, it’s the very struggle that shapes us into who we’re meant to become.
The Restless Urge to Be Somewhere Else
As I kept walking, I started thinking about how often we — especially when we’re younger — dream of being somewhere else. We imagine a different city, a better job, a more exciting life. We chase goals and milestones, thinking happiness is always just a few steps ahead of us.
And honestly, that drive can be a good thing. Ambition pushes us to improve. Dreams give us direction. But if we spend all our time trying to escape where we are, we risk missing what’s right in front of us.
There’s a reason mindfulness has become such a strong movement lately. So many of us are burnt out, anxious, or disconnected — constantly replaying the past or worrying about the future. Mindfulness gently pulls us back to the present. It reminds us that this moment is where life is actually happening. Not the next one. Not the imagined future. Now. My Christian faith is crucial to my beliefs and part of this process is to understand that I am where I believe God has placed me right now. We are not thrown about in cosmic randomness but God has created us and gives us circumstances to thrive in.
Growing Where You’re Planted
That little tomato plant didn’t choose the gutter. It probably didn’t even get planted on purpose — maybe someone tossed out an old tomato, and a seed landed in just the right place. It wasn’t given much, but it has become something anyway. But the tomato plant says otherwise.
It says: You can grow anyway and anywhere.
It says: You don’t have to wait for perfect conditions to become something beautiful.
It says: Life is still possible here.
Final Thoughts
There’s something strangely comforting about that plant. It reminded me that growth can happen in the cracks. That life is more resilient than we think. That even when we feel out of place or unsupported, we still have the capacity to push through and bear fruit.
So if you’re feeling stuck, lost, or far from where you thought you’d be by now — maybe remember the tomato plant by the kerb.
You might be growing more than you realise in the here and now.

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