There is something deeply grounding about working with the earth. Whether it is turning the soil, planting seeds, or pulling weeds, gardening requires a specific kind of patience—one that reminds us that growth cannot be rushed, and that anything worth cultivating demands regular care, attention, and protection from the elements.
Growing up, my dad earned a rather unique family nickname: “The Flashlight Farmer.”
As you can probably guess, he earned the title from the late nights he spent out in his ginormous garden, tending to the vegetables that fed our family. Those hot, humid summer days with the scorching sun were never very kind to his fair Scandinavian skin. So, once the sun dipped below the horizon, out into the massive vegetable garden he would go—always outfitted in a lightweight long-sleeve shirt to ward off the evening mosquitoes.
From the vantage point of our dining room table, we could always watch the beam of his heavy metal flashlight bouncing around amidst the towering rows of zucchini, cucumbers, and tomatoes like a searchlight in the dark. He was a dedicated gardener, spending hours out there every single long summer night making sure the plants survived and thrived.
Sometimes, my dad would let us kids help out in the garden. While many of the assigned jobs were less than thrilling—like clearing rocks out of the dirt so the rototiller wouldn't jam—there were a few tasks that captured our curiosity.
The Pests and the Suckers
One of those jobs was scouring rows of tomato plants in search of tomato worms. These large, bright green pests were notorious for devouring a plant before you even realized they were there. Picking them off required a careful hand. To this day, I can still vividly remember the soft, pudgy feel of those caterpillars between my fingers, and the slightly unnerving moment when they would rear back and open their mouths as if preparing to bite.
Another task involved the tomato plants as well: hunting down the "suckers." These are the tiny, innocuous sprouts that emerge in the "armpits" of the plant, right between the main shoot and the branches, as my mom used to call them. At a glance, they look completely harmless. But if left unattended, they siphon vital nutrients away from the rest of the plant, leaving fewer resources to grow actual tomatoes.
To help a garden thrive, both the obvious pests and the hidden suckers have to go.
Human beings are not all that different.
We need sunlight, water, proper nourishment, and freedom from internal pests and hidden energy-drains to truly flourish. In a therapy office, this metaphor translates directly to how we manage our internal thought gardens. Just like those garden plants, our minds can become overrun by two distinct types of negative mental habits: the obvious, screaming intrusive thoughts, and the stealthy, quiet confidence-depleting whispers.
The Loud Worms vs. The Stealth Suckers
Today, thanks to the massive cultural shift toward mental health awareness and the rise of psychology content across social media, many people are quite adept at spotting their loud, intrusive negative thoughts. In the same way the naked eye can easily spot a bright green tomato worm against dark green leaves, we easily catch the loud automatic negative thoughts that scream for our attention:
"I am a total failure."
"Everyone has it together except for me."
These are the loud alarms of the mind. They catch us off guard, demand a reaction, and force us to stop what we are doing.
But what about the stealth suckers?
The stealth suckers are entirely different. They are quiet, subtle, and insidious. They do not sound off alarms, nor do they immediately cause panic. Instead, they grow slowly in the cracks of our daily lives, quietly draining our contentment, joy, and peace while we go about our routines.
They sound like this:
"I’m just not a good partner" whispering softly when you leave the kitchen sink full of dishes for a couple of days.
"Something is seriously wrong with me" creeping in quietly when you indulge in comfort food after a grueling week.
"I’m probably failing as a parent" settling into the back of your mind each time your child has a difficult moment in public.
"I must not be good enough..." murmuring gently when a peer achieves a milestone at work you were hoping for.
Just like the tiny sucker growing on a tomato plant, these thoughts often go unnoticed at first. We don't realize the emotional devastation they wreak because they blend seamlessly into the background of our busy lives.
Becoming a Careful Observer
In a therapeutic setting, learning to spot the stealth suckers is often where the real, transformative work happens. If left unattended, these subtle negative beliefs slowly strip away a person's joy, convincing them that they are somehow less-than, broken, or inadequate.
That is why awareness is the crucial first step.
Just like those green caterpillars that writhe and protest when you try to remove them, the subtle thought-suckers in our minds do not want to be disturbed either. They want to remain hidden so they can continue to consume our energy.
Learning to stop them requires the same kind of careful, patient observation I practiced as a child helping my dad in the garden. It means slowing down enough to scour the rows of your own mind. It means asking yourself: Where did that quiet little judgment come from? Is that actually true, or is it just an old habit whispering in the dark?
When these mental suckers are left alone, they grow and multiply. The pesky voice telling you that you aren't enough gets louder and more demanding. But when you stand guard over your own mental landscape—keeping a watchful, compassionate eye on your inner dialogue—you become far more adept at identifying and interrupting those harmful narratives.
Tending Your Internal Garden
The process of emotional healing and personal growth does not happen overnight. It requires patience, grace, and an ongoing commitment to weeding out the things that drain you.
Those mental suckers will try to sprout back up from time to time. That is simply part of being human. But with the right tools, self-awareness, and a willingness to tend to your inner world, you can stop them from choking out your joy.
You don't have to carry the weight of every harsh, quiet judgment your mind throws your way. By shining a gentle light into the hidden corners of your thoughts—much like my dad scanning his garden rows in the dark of night—you can clear out the debris and give yourself the space you need to flourish, grow strong, and produce the amazing fruit that was inside you all along.
