The Pruning Principle

For years, I have been fighting with an invasive weed in my garden.

The battle is ongoing, and I sense we have a wary mutual respect. The battle is part frustration and part fascination because on the surface, the weed is quite beautiful. It is a soft green vine with delicate white flowers … and an absolutely fierce root system. With an almost whimsical nonchalance, it rapidly winds its way up every root, around stems, along the branches of mighty oaks, through fences and ground cover, all dressed up with its showy white blossoms. Harmless, you might think. Gentle, even.

If you haven’t guessed, its name is Morning Glory.
Those of you on the coast will know it is a beast.

When I first saw the plant, I admired it. It was wild, quick to grow and spread, and full of life. But as the seasons passed, I began to notice the quiet damage it was causing in my garden. My Australian gum tree lost branches. The pampas grass that once swayed tall and golden turned brittle. The roses I had tended so carefully began to fade at their base. Even the bee-friendly flowers I had planted to invite pollinators were effectively strangled.

What looked like life and growth on the surface was slowly choking everything that should have been thriving.

This fall, as I reread Dr. Simon Breakspear’s The Pruning Principle, my ongoing tangle with Morning Glory resurfaced in my mind. Sometimes what appears healthy or vibrant in our schools — another initiative, another event, another layer of “good work” — can quietly begin to steal oxygen from other corners of the space we are tending.

When I return home every few months, I am challenged to reduce the impact of this stealthy vine. I cut back, pull up roots, and even take drastic measures with the hedge trimmer. It’s not easy — pruning never is. But every time I clear away what is overgrown, space opens for light, air, rejuvenation, and genuine growth. The garden is reshaped for a healthier future. I feel like I can breathe more easily.

As leaders, we too must pause and ask:

What in our environment – our “professional garden” – has begun to choke out what we value most?
What can we trim – or remove – to let something more vital take root?

During the pandemic, we all experienced an unexpected pruning. The “extras” fell away — assemblies, events, meetings — and many of us promised ourselves we would protect that clarity of purpose when life returned to normal. And yet, here we are again, with full calendars and fuller plates.

From October 23 to 25, more than 530 BCPVPA members and friends are gathering in Whistler for the 2025 Connecting Leaders Conference, where Dr. Breakspear will guide us in an exploration of The Pruning Principle, and how thoughtful pruning creates sustainable, purposeful leadership. We will also welcome Dr. Dustin Louie, who will be facilitating the first Indigenous Members Symposium and connecting with BCPVPA members from across BC.

As I prepare for the conference learning, I have found myself asking what “Morning Glory” I need to cut back in my own work — not out of frustration, but out of hope. Because beneath the weeds, there is always new life waiting to emerge.

My wish for each of you is clarity, courage, and renewal, along with the confidence to prune what no longer serves, so that what truly matters can flourish.

Next
Next

Decolonizing Education