From my perspective, as a Ficus elastica, growth is my fundamental purpose. I am driven by apical dominance, where the highest, newest tip of my stem produces a hormone called auxin. This hormone suppresses the growth of the buds lower down my stem, ensuring my energy is directed skyward towards the light. This strategy is excellent for reaching the forest canopy in my natural habitat, but in your home, it can lead to a lanky, single-stemmed appearance. Pruning is an intervention that you perceive as shaping, but to me, it is a redirection of my innate energy.
When you make a clean, angled cut just above a leaf node (the bump on my stem where a leaf emerges and a dormant bud resides), you are performing a profound act. You are physically removing the primary source of auxin. This sudden drop in the suppressing hormone is a clear signal to the dormant buds below. It tells them, "The path upward is blocked; now is your time to awaken!" This one action fundamentally alters my growth pattern from a single vertical trajectory to a potentially fuller, more branched form.
Following your cut, the awakened buds along my stem will begin to swell and push forth new growth. Typically, the one or two buds immediately below the cut will become the most vigorous, striving to become the new apical leaders. This is how you encourage me to become bushier. If you wish to correct my shape or encourage growth in a specific direction, you should prune just above a node that is facing the direction you want the new branch to grow. The new stem will generally emerge in that same direction.
Sometimes, your goal is not just to encourage new growth but to remove parts of me that are unhealthy, damaged, or simply undesirable from an aesthetic viewpoint. When you remove a dead or dying leaf, you free up my resources that were being wasted on a lost cause. This allows me to redirect those precious nutrients and water to support the healthy parts of my body and the new growth you have stimulated through pruning. It is a collaborative effort for my overall well-being.
You must be cautious when you prune me. My sap is a milky white latex—my lifeblood. It is how I seal wounds and defend against pests. When you cut, this sap will flow. It is a natural process, but excessive loss can weaken me. Always use sharp, sterile tools to create a clean cut that I can heal over quickly and cleanly. A ragged, torn wound is more susceptible to infection and is much harder for me to close. Please avoid pruning when I am dormant; my healing response is strongest during my active growing season in spring and summer.
