As I write this, I am in the passenger seat of our car headed north. Linda is driving, and my heart is about to burst. We are on our way to meet our new grandson, Felix.
There is something about waiting to meet a new life that sharpens your sense of what matters. You start to think not only about this one little person, but about the future he represents. New life changes the story for an entire family.
On the farm and at work, I am noticing the same pattern. New life, in all its forms, has a way of resetting priorities.
New life in a seed tray
Out at Iron Mountain Organics this time of year, the farm is not at its flashiest. The beds are resting, the days are shorter, and most people would say the show is over until spring.
But behind the scenes, a lot is happening.
Right now, I am testing germination rates for my seed stock. Before I plant full trays for the spring, I will take a sample of seeds, tuck them into soil blocks or cell trays, give them warmth and moisture, and then simply watch and count. How many actually sprout? How long do they take? Which varieties are still vigorous, and which ones are past their prime?
It is a quiet kind of excitement. Every tiny green loop that pushes through the soil says, “Yes, there is still life in this seed. You can count on me this season.” It also keeps me honest. If only half of a packet germinates, I have a choice to make. I either need to overseed to compensate or replace the seed entirely.
Testing germination is about more than curiosity. It is about stewardship. I want to go into spring with a realistic understanding of what will grow well, not just a romantic idea of what I wish would grow. It lets me plan bed space, crop rotations, and harvest goals with more confidence.
In other words, before I fill a whole field, I test a tray.
New life in our work
At ThreeWill, we are doing something very similar with our ideas.
Much of our focus lately has been on how we can help home and community-based care organizations reduce chaos and create more room for care with the resources they already have. These organizations are under incredible pressure. Staff are stretched, paperwork is relentless, and the need in the communities they serve keeps growing.
We believe that AI and better use of Microsoft 365 can make a real difference here. Not by adding more complexity, but by simplifying the work, capturing knowledge once, and automating what is repetitive, so people can focus on human moments.
As the landscape of AI continues to evolve with new capabilities, we are starting to “test germination” with our ideas.
We ask questions like:
- What could we do to shave 30 percent off the time it takes to document a visit
- What if new staff could find the right policy or form in seconds instead of digging through folders for several minutes
- What if supervisors had a simple, near-real-time view of who is overloaded and who has capacity
We then build small concept tests. Simple AI prompts. Lightweight prototypes. A reworked workflow in Teams or SharePoint. We try it, measure it, and see how it feels in the real world.
These are our seed trays.
Not every concept “germinates” the way we hope. Some ideas sound brilliant in a meeting and then fall flat when they hit the messiness of real operations. Others surprise us. A small change in how notes are captured or how information is tagged can unlock a lot of value with less effort than we expected.
By testing early, we avoid planting our entire season on wishful thinking. We learn which ideas are alive and vigorous and which ones need to be composted so something better can grow.
A question for you
As you look at your own organization, ask yourself:
- What “seeds” of new ideas are you testing right now
- Where are you assuming that something will just “grow” without checking its viability
- What small experiments could you run in the next 30 to 60 days that might make life better for your team or your clients
You do not need to overhaul everything at once. Start with a tray, not a field. Start with one workflow, not the whole organization. Start with one conversation about how to reduce chaos and make more room for meaningful work.
New life is rarely loud at first. It is a tiny heartbeat on an ultrasound, a small loop of green in a tray, a simple prototype that saves someone ten minutes of frustration in their day. But if we pay attention and nurture it, it can change everything.
For me, today, new life has a name. Felix. I cannot wait to hold him, whisper a quiet welcome, and keep planting seeds, both in the soil and in the way we work, that will help his world thrive.
This post first appeared on December 5, 2025 in Sowing Success, my weekly LinkedIn newsletter on leadership and organic farming. Read the original on LinkedIn.
