First and foremost, you must understand my rhythm. I am not like a typical leafy plant that grows continuously. My life is a series of distinct, synchronized stages. The splitting process is the culmination of my yearly cycle. During the summer, I enter a dormancy period to protect myself from intense heat. As the light angles change and temperatures become more moderate in late summer or early autumn, I receive the signal to begin my renewal. A new plant body begins to form internally, drawing moisture and nutrients from the old, outer leaves. This process is slow and deliberate. If it is still the height of summer or the dead of winter, my body is simply not ready. I am waiting for the correct environmental cues to trigger this delicate operation. Patience is key; you cannot rush my natural calendar.
This is the most common reason for my hesitation to split. Water is life, but for me, it is also a precise signal. If you water me while I am still in the midst of my old growth phase or, critically, when the new leaves are already forming inside, you disrupt my entire system. The old leaves, intended to wither and sacrifice themselves for the new, will plump up again if given water. This creates immense physical pressure, trapping the new leaves inside. I cannot push through these swollen, hydrated old leaves. Conversely, if I am too dehydrated at the end of my growth period, I may not have the internal resources to even initiate the formation of a new body. The correct timing is to withhold water completely once my old leaves start to show signs of wrinkling and the new pair becomes visible, only resuming when the old leaves have fully transformed into a dry, papery sheath.
I am a child of the sun, and light is my primary clock. Insufficient light is a major cause of stunted growth and failed splitting. When I do not receive enough bright, direct light (several hours a day), my form becomes etiolated—I stretch out unnaturally in a desperate search for photons. This weak, elongated growth makes the splitting process difficult and messy. The new leaves may be malformed and lack the strength to emerge properly. Furthermore, low light often leads to overwatering issues, as my soil does not dry out efficiently, compounding the problem. I need consistent, strong light to maintain my compact, stacked shape and to power the internal development of the new plant body. A south-facing window is my minimum requirement; a grow light is often better.
If I am a seedling or a very young plant, I may not yet have entered the mature phase of my life where the classic splitting cycle occurs. Young Lithops often add new leaves in a less dramatic, non-splitting manner as they establish their root systems and increase in size. Additionally, if I am under stress from other factors, such as root rot from poor soil drainage, a pest infestation, or a recent repotting, my survival instincts take over. My energy will be directed towards healing and stabilizing my root system rather than the energetically costly process of producing a new body. Splitting is a sign of a healthy, established plant that feels secure in its environment. If I am struggling just to stay alive, reproduction and renewal are put on hold.
