Messy Monday: The Purpose of a Lemon Tree
“What does it take to stay rooted while leading through change?”
The Purpose of a Lemon Tree
by Mario Jovan
Messy Mondays is our bi-weekly short story series designed to help social impact leaders and coaches reconnect with purpose, ground themselves and their teams, and move forward with clarity. Each story offers a chance to pause, reflect, and be fully present in the midst of the work.
Synopsis: On a serene Sunday morning, a lone lemon tree bearing its first fruits became the backdrop to an unexpected encounter. Two lively lemons, Squeeze and Meringue, tumbled from its branches, disrupting a peaceful moment of reflection. With quirky personalities and heartfelt dreams, the lemons revealed their destiny to grow into trees but grappled with the fear of darkness and the unknown. Through a tender exchange, they and their human companion found courage in shared vulnerabilities, connecting over life's challenges and the resilience needed to grow. Together, they embraced the process of planting the seeds of hope, promising to nurture a legacy that spanned generations.
Focus: This story centers on the kind of leadership that grows not from certainty, but from presence, patience, and purpose. Leaders are often called to act in the midst of the unknown, carrying both personal responsibility and the weight of legacy. This kind of leadership invites us to:
Embrace vulnerability as a part of the growth process
Make choices that honor those who came before while creating something new
Trust in the unseen work of transformation
It’s a meditation on leading with intention, even when outcomes aren’t immediate—and on how the small, unseen moments of courage can shape future impact.
Take a deep breath in… 1, 2, 3, 4.
Now gently exhale… 1, 2, 3, 4.
And with that, let’s step into the story.
It was a bright, sunny Sunday, warm—the kind of day that made time feel irrelevant. The flowers were in full bloom, and the air was filled with the quiet joy of simply being. You lay on a blanket, one that had been passed down through generations in your family. It wasn’t just a blanket; it was a piece of history, woven with care and meaning.
As your fingers traced its grooves, you could almost feel the soft touch of the hands that had crafted and cared for it before you. This blanket carried the weight of memories, a testament to the long journey your ancestors had taken so you could be here, basking in the present. Each thread worn and stitched together served as a gentle reminder: you are here, rooted in their resilience and love.
Without them, this moment wouldn’t exist. And just like a quilt, their story isn’t finished—it continues with you, adding new pieces to a legacy that binds the past, present, and future together.
The blanket reminded you that you were safe. It protected your clothes from the morning dew clinging to the grass, forming a soft barrier between you and the earth. Yet, even as the grass pressed against the blanket, it felt as though it connected you to something deeper—the ground, the earth, and everything beyond it.
You were here, present and at ease, leaning against your favorite tree: the lemon tree. You had grown up with it, watching it rise from a slender sapling to a strong, fruit-bearing marvel. For the first time in its life, it carried lemons—a proud milestone for a tree that had been in your family for at least two generations. It stood tall on the acre of land your family had lovingly tended, a lone sentinel in a meadow that seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction.
This tree was your sanctuary, the place you came to reflect on life’s twists and turns. Its branches offered just enough shade, with streaks of sunlight peeking through the canopy to kiss your face. The sky above was a brilliant blue, dotted with a few clouds that looked like soft bunny tails. You felt at peace.
Biting into your favorite snack, you let yourself sink into the blanket. The weight of the world disappeared as you closed your eyes, your mind drifting into a kaleidoscope of colors. Blues swirled in to soothe your thoughts, greens invited growth, and streaks of royal purple reminded you of the power flowing in your veins. This was you—all of it. You didn’t need to choose; you could simply be.
Then, without warning, a tiny thump landed on your forehead. Startled, you paused, but brushed it off as a stray twig or your imagination. You leaned back into the palette of colors swirling through your mind—the blues, the greens, and the purples, all affirming who you were.
Thump.
This time, it couldn’t be ignored. You opened your eyes and sat up, scanning your surroundings. That’s when you saw them—two lemons, sitting on the blanket, nonchalantly nibbling on your snacks.
“Hey, what are you doing?” you asked, staring at the two lemons perched on your blanket.
One of them paused mid-chew and, in a trumpet-like voice, replied, “Juicing up.”
The other lemon, undeterred, continued munching on your snacks.
“But those are my snacks,” you protested.
“We know,” the second one said casually in a high-pitched voice, barely glancing up before diving back in.
The lemons were peculiar, to say the least. Their round tops served as heads, while their larger, bulbous bodies formed their torsos. Circular eyes blinked up at you, and their skinny, spaghetti-like arms and legs, colored black, ended in white-gloved hands. Their black-and-white shoes looked like tiny penguin feet tapping impatiently.
“Well, since we’re sharing, maybe you two should share your names,” you suggested, folding your arms.
The lemons ignored you, still focused on devouring your snacks. Frustrated, you reached down and picked them up.
“Hey, we need that!” squealed the high-pitched lemon. “What are you doing?”
“This is mine, and I asked you a question,” you said firmly.
“Ah, what was the question again?” the lemon asked, tilting its head.
“Who are you, and what are your names?”
The high-pitched lemon turned to the other one. “Wait…they can see us?”
The second lemon blinked. “Seems like it. Do you see me?”
“Yes, I see you. Do you see me?”
“Yup, and are we both yellow?”
“Bright and yellow as ever!”
“Okay, one more question,” the high-pitched lemon said. “Did we just fall out of a lemon tree?”
“Sure did,” the second lemon answered, nodding. “We landed right on their forehead. Nice and soft!”
The high-pitched lemon looked at you and declared, “So, duh, we’re lemons! But my name’s Squeeze. One day, I’m going to grow into a lemon tree and make the most amazing fresh-squeezed lemonade. I just know it!”
The second lemon chimed in, “I’m Meringue, and I’m supposed to grow into a tree to produce amazing lemons for pies.”
“Supposed to?” you asked, noticing the hesitation in Meringue’s tone.
Meringue stammered, “Well…well…”
“He’s scared of the dark,” Squeeze blurted out. “To become trees, we’ll have to go underground, and it’s pretty dark down there. Meringue’s not too excited about that part.”
Meringue sighed. “It’s true. Once we’re buried, we’ll be in the dark for days before we sprout. It’s scary, and…it feels like a really long time.”
Squeeze nodded solemnly. “It’s bittersweet—literally. But that’s what we’re made for. That’s why we go in pairs, so we don’t face it alone. Even though we’ll be planted apart, we’ll see each other in the meadow when we grow.”
Meringue glanced at you nervously. “But it still feels like forever.”
You knelt beside them and offered a reassuring smile. “I understand. I’ve been through dark moments myself—times where I didn’t know what would happen next. But those moments helped me grow. Now, I feel like I can stand as tall as a tree.”
Meringue tilted his head. “Humans don’t have to go underground, though.”
“We don’t?” you said, raising an eyebrow. “How do you know?”
“I guess I don’t,” Meringue admitted.
“Exactly. While we don’t physically go underground, we plant ideas—seeds, if you will. And in the beginning, it’s dark. We don’t know if our ideas will grow. We just have to trust the process and keep working.”
Meringue brightened. “Wow, so humans have dark moments too!”
“Absolutely,” you said with a grin. “And I’ve turned those moments into something beautiful. You might even say I’ve turned lemons into lemonade.”
Squeeze burst into laughter. “Not my lemonade, honey. You haven’t had my lemonade yet! But one day, you will, and you’ll know it’s me.”
“I’m sure I will,” you said warmly. “And I’ll be right here to watch you both grow.”
“Really?” Meringue asked, his voice soft with hope.
“Really,” you replied.
Meringue nodded, comforted. “I guess I’d better eat a little more, then. I’ll need all the energy I can get for the dark days ahead.”
You handed them more snacks, and the three of you feasted together. When it was time for Squeeze and Meringue to be planted, they turned to you for help.
“Will you do it?” Squeeze asked.
“Of course,” you said.
You dug two small holes about a foot apart. “Okay, it’s time.”
Squeeze turned to Meringue. “Are you going to be okay?”
Meringue took a deep breath. “As long as I have you two, I’ll be fine. My purpose is to become a lemon tree, and I’m going to do just that. I’ll continue the legacy.”
You gently placed Squeeze into the first hole and covered them with soil. Squeeze gave you a beaming smile. Then you turned to Meringue.
“You’re going to be okay,” you said softly. “You’re safe.”
“I’m going to be okay,” Meringue repeated, as if convincing themselves. “I am safe.”
You lowered Meringue into the hole and covered them with soil. “I’ll be waiting for you to come to life.”
Reflection Questions:
Use these questions to guide yourself into deep reflection or do it as a team/organization. The purpose is to help us be present and to remind us of our purpose.
1. What seeds are you planting now that may take time, uncertainty, or discomfort before they bear fruit?
Reflect on a project, idea, or relationship you're nurturing that requires patience. Like Meringue, are there “dark days” you’re navigating—and how are you tending to your own growth in the process?
2. How does your personal story connect to the legacy you're trying to build?
The ancestral blanket and lemon tree in the story symbolize lineage and resilience. In your leadership, what are you carrying forward—and how are you adding your own thread to the fabric?
3. What helps you feel safe and supported as you take risks for social change?
Consider the roles of community, grounding practices, or personal affirmations. What allows you to step into transformation, especially when the outcomes aren't immediately visible?
Are you a social impact leader ready to launch your coaching business?
The Messy Roots Coaching Academy is designed to equip you with the tools to become a powerful and effective coach.
Cohort 6 begins July 2nd and offers a virtual, values-driven certification experience focused on healing, equity, and real-world impact.
Program highlights:
Registered Coaching Training Provider
100% Virtual and Accessible
Flexible Payment Options
Centered on Equity and Healing
Small, Supportive Cohort Sizes
Led by Founder and Coaching Facilitator Mario Jovan
Sessions are held Wednesdays, 5:30–7:45 PM EST.
Learn more and apply at: messyroots.org/coachingschool
Calling all leaders and teams in social impact!
The next cohort of Coaching Foundations begins June 17th — a powerful certification program designed to help you lead with greater clarity, trust, and purpose.
What you’ll gain:
Tools to lead effective 1:1 coaching conversations
Strategies for trust-based feedback and accountability
A renewed connection to your purpose as a leader
Systems and storytelling to support your team
A coaching-based culture in your organization
Tuesdays, 5:30–7:30 PM EST | 100% Virtual
Led by Mario Jovan, Founder of Messy Roots LLC
Learn more + register:messyroots.org/coachingfoundations