Let me ask you something: is there something you wish you’d started years ago — a skill, a habit, a relationship, a career path — and the fact that you didn’t start then has somehow become your reason for not starting now? If so, this proverb was written for you. “The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is now.” This is English Plus. Never Stop Learning.
This saying is widely attributed as a Chinese proverb, though like many ancient pieces of wisdom, its exact origin is difficult to pin down with certainty. What’s certain is that it has resonated across cultures and centuries because it captures something deeply human — our relationship with time, regret, and the ongoing temptation to let past procrastination justify present inaction.
Let’s take the first half seriously before we rush to the hopeful second half. “The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago.” That part is supposed to sting a little. Because it’s true. If you had started learning that language a decade ago, you’d be fluent by now. If you’d begun saving money in your twenties, compound interest would have done beautiful things by now. If you’d started exercising consistently five years ago, your body would thank you very differently today. The best time was earlier. That’s just honest.
But here’s what’s brilliant about the proverb: it doesn’t let you wallow. It doesn’t say “the best time was 20 years ago — too bad.” It pivots immediately. “The second best time is now.” Note what it doesn’t say. It doesn’t say “the next best time is when you feel ready.” It doesn’t say “when the conditions improve.” It doesn’t say “when you’ve processed your regret.” It says now.
There’s a psychological trap that this proverb is specifically designed to dismantle, and it goes something like this: “Since I didn’t start when I should have, starting now doesn’t count as much — or doesn’t count at all.” This is what some researchers call the “sunk cost of inaction.” We treat the gap between the ideal start and the present moment as evidence that trying is now somehow less valid. The proverb cuts right through that logic. Second best is still better than not at all. A tree planted today will still give shade.
Think about the metaphor itself for a moment. A tree. Not a sprint. Not a quick result. A tree is a patient investment. You plant it knowing that its full value reveals itself slowly — shade, fruit, beauty, oxygen — over years and decades. That’s the kind of endeavor the proverb is really talking about. Not a task you can knock out in an afternoon, but the kind of growth that compounds over time and requires you to start before you can see the end.
The proverb is also quietly humbling about perfectionism. The “best” time is gone. You’re working with second best now. And you know what? Second best, consistently applied, produces remarkable results. Most of the trees in the world weren’t planted at the optimal moment. They still grew.
So here’s what I want you to think about: what’s the tree you’ve been putting off planting — the thing you keep saying you’ll start “someday” — and what would it look like to plant it today, not perfectly, not at the ideal moment, but now? Share it in the comments. Because the best response to this proverb isn’t reflection. It’s action — and then telling someone about it.
