As someone who’s 68 years old and has a deep connection with nature and loved ones, I often meet people who are beginning their bonsai journey as a way to support their mental health. Bonsai has brought a deep sense of peace into my life, and I’m grateful for the tranquility it continues to offer.

Bonsai offers more than just aesthetic pleasure; it provides profound benefits for mental health and overall wellbeing. Bonsai requires skill and patience but also fosters a deep connection with nature that can significantly enhance mental and emotional health.

The process of creating and maintaining bonsai is inherently meditative. It demands mindfulness and concentration as practitioners meticulously prune, wire, and care for their miniature trees. This focused attention on the intricate details of each tree’s growth promotes a sense of calm and reduces stress levels. In a world filled with constant distractions, the act of tending to a bonsai encourages individuals to slow down, be present in the moment, and appreciate the beauty of nature unfolding in miniature form.

Studies have shown that interacting with nature, even in its miniature form as bonsai, can have profound effects on mental health. Engaging with bonsai gardening has been linked to reduced levels of cortisol, the stress hormone, leading to decreased anxiety and improved overall mood. The rhythmic, repetitive tasks involved in bonsai care can also induce a state of relaxation similar to meditation, promoting a sense of wellbeing and mental clarity.

Beyond stress reduction, bonsai gardening offers therapeutic benefits that extend to emotional and psychological wellbeing. The sense of accomplishment that comes from nurturing a bonsai tree from its early stages of development to maturity can boost self-esteem and foster a positive outlook on life. The long-term commitment required to care for bonsai encourages patience and resilience, qualities that can translate into other areas of one’s life.

Caring for bonsai fosters a deep connection with nature and heightens awareness of the natural world. As individuals observe the seasonal changes and growth patterns of their miniature trees, they develop a greater appreciation for the environment and the interconnectedness of all living things. This heightened environmental consciousness can inspire more sustainable practices and a desire to protect natural ecosystems.

Bonsai cultivation often brings people together through clubs, workshops, and exhibitions. These communal activities provide opportunities for social interaction, knowledge sharing, and mutual support among enthusiasts. The sense of belonging to a community of like-minded individuals who share a passion for bonsai can combat feelings of loneliness and isolation, promoting a sense of camaraderie and friendship.

In conclusion, the art of bonsai goes beyond horticulture; it serves as a powerful tool for enhancing mental health, fostering wellbeing, and cultivating a deeper connection with nature. Through the mindful practice of creating and caring for miniature trees, individuals can experience profound therapeutic benefits, including stress reduction, improved mood, and enhanced overall quality of life. As we continue to navigate the complexities of modern life, the timeless practice of bonsai offers a therapeutic refuge — an opportunity to nurture both nature and ourselves in harmony.

In the bonsai world, there’s a term that strikes deep: cookie-cutter bonsai. It’s not just a label—it’s an insult. These trees are the soulless products of a system designed to mass-produce mediocrity. They flood garden centres, hardware stores, and even personal collections with their interchangeable, unremarkable presence. A product of mass production in China and Korea, or worse, the pathetic attempts of bonsai hobbyists trying to replicate what they’ve seen in exhibitions. Let’s be real: these copy-paste trees have zero originality. And when enthusiasts churn out more clones, the bonsai world sinks into creative stagnation. This is what separates the “practitioners” from the true artists—the ones who don’t just maintain trees, but challenge the boundaries of the craft.

But here’s the twisted irony: when someone dares to break free from these lifeless norms, they’re labeled as mavericks—perhaps even as lunatics. Why? Because bonsai, like so many other art forms, has become obsessed with playing it safe. Mavericks don’t shatter the rules; they bend them until they snap. They’re creative nonconformists who don’t care about the bonsai establishment‘s approval. They experiment, they innovate, and they don’t fear failure because failure is just another step toward creating something extraordinary. And the establishment? They despise these mavericks. Fear them, even.

Let’s talk about Masahiko Kimura. In his early days, the bonsai elite sneered at him, branding him “a nail that stuck out in a plank.” How dare he refuse to conform? How dare he ignore centuries of rigid tradition? Fast forward, and Kimura is now considered the greatest bonsai artist of all time. So, what changed? Nothing—except the realization that those who defy the rules are the ones who eventually define them. Kimura’s early criticism wasn’t because he was wrong. It was because he was right, and the traditionalists couldn’t stand it.

This is the dirty little secret in bonsai: playing it safe makes you forgettable. Sure, you’ll get a polite nod at an exhibition, and maybe even a handshake if you follow every rule to the letter. But the extraordinary? That’s reserved for the mavericks—the ones who couldn’t care less about rules. They see failure as an illusion, a joke. That’s why they’ll go down in history, while the cookie-cutter crowd will be forgotten.

Stepping out of the comfort zone is terrifying for most bonsai practitioners because they’ve spent their entire lives obeying an outdated rulebook. But mavericks? They get it. Rules aren’t sacred; they’re restrictions waiting to be overcome. If your only defense for following tradition is “that’s the way it’s always been,” then congratulations—you’ll never create anything remarkable. Mavericks question everything, and in that questioning, they find innovation. And that’s why they succeed.

Take a look at the Kokufu exhibition in Japan—considered the gold standard of bonsai shows. Amidst the rows of perfectly sculpted pines and junipers, a “wild and unkempt” Hawthorn appeared. It violated every rule in the book, yet when photos of it hit social media, it captured more attention than all the cookie-cutter trees combined. Why? Because it dared to be different. The bonsai world could use a lot more of that courage.

And look at the Pacific Bonsai Museum. They’ve started incorporating graffiti art on skateboards instead of traditional scrolls. It’s a bold move—one that purists will howl against—but it’s exactly what the art form needs. Mavericks don’t care about the purists’ tears. They’re too busy redefining the craft.

Individuals like Frenchman Laurent Darrieux and his creative ‘Cosmic Bonsai’ are shaking up the bonsai world, fuelling a new era of bold, vibrant creations. To dismiss what  mavericks are doing now is to repeat the mistake made by those who dismissed creative icons like David Bowie, Van Gogh, and Banksy. Bonsai, like any other creative pursuit, suffers when it clings too tightly to tradition. The rule-followers may sleep soundly at night, but it’s the mavericks—the ones swimming against the current—who become the true beacons of success and ingenuity.

In life—and in bonsai—it’s the bold, the risk-takers, the mavericks who change the game. The rest? They’re just spectators, waiting for someone else to show them the way.