Ever heard someone tell you not to "rest on your laurels" and wondered why they were talking about your garden? It’s one of those weird phrases we use without thinking. Honestly, if you look at the literal definition, you’re just talking about a shrub. Specifically, Laurus nobilis. But in the real world, when people ask what does laurels mean, they aren't looking for a botany lesson. They’re looking for the reason why a bunch of aromatic leaves became the universal symbol for winning.
It started in Greece. Not the modern "vacation in Mykonos" Greece, but the ancient, sweaty, philosophical Greece.
The god Apollo is usually the one to blame for this. According to myth, he fell for a nymph named Daphne. She wasn't interested. To escape him, she turned into a laurel tree. Apollo, being a bit dramatic, decided that if he couldn't have her, he’d at least wear her branches. From that point on, the laurel became sacred. It wasn't just a plant; it was a status symbol. If you won at the Pythian Games—which were like the Olympics but held at Delphi—you didn't get a gold medal. You got a wreath made of laurel. You got the "laurels."
The Pivot From Plants to Power
So, how did we get from "wearing a salad on your head" to "achieving greatness"? It’s all about the transition from the physical to the metaphorical. By the time the Romans showed up, they took the Greek idea and dialed it up to eleven. Roman generals returning from a massive victory would march through the streets wearing these wreaths. It was the ancient equivalent of a Super Bowl ring, but much more flammable.
When we talk about what laurels mean today, we’re almost always talking about past achievements. It’s the "glory days."
Think about the term "Poet Laureate." That’s a direct carry-over. It’s an official position, currently held by people like Ada Limón in the US or Simon Armitage in the UK. They don't actually have to wear the leaves anymore (thankfully), but the title signifies that they’ve reached the peak of their craft. They have "won" their field.
But there’s a trap here.
The word has a double edge. While it represents honor, it also represents a plateau. If you have "won your laurels," you’ve done something great. But if you’re "resting" on them, you’ve stopped trying. You’re relying on your 2015 promotion to carry you through 2026. You’re stagnant.
💡 You might also like: 50 Degrees Celsius in Fahrenheit: Why This Number Actually Matters for Your Safety
Why the Symbolism Stuck
It’s kind of wild that a plant survived as a metaphor for three thousand years. Why not oak? Why not pine?
Laurel is an evergreen. It stays green even when everything else is dying in the winter. Ancient people weren't stupid; they saw that and thought it represented immortality. If you did something great, your fame should stay "evergreen." It should never fade. Pliny the Elder, a Roman author who wrote about basically everything before he died in the eruption of Mount Vesuvius, noted that the laurel was the only tree that "was not struck by lightning." Whether that’s scientifically true is debatable, but the vibe was clear: it’s the tree of the protected and the victorious.
Resting on Your Laurels: The Productivity Trap
This is the version of the phrase you’ll hear in every corporate board room or locker room. It’s a warning.
When someone asks what does laurels mean in a business context, they’re usually talking about "complacency." You see it in tech all the time. A company releases a groundbreaking app, it dominates the market, and then they stop innovating. They think they’ve won. They "rest on their laurels." Then, some tiny startup comes along and eats their lunch because the big guys were too busy admiring their old trophies.
It’s a psychological state.
- You stop learning because you’re an "expert."
- You stop networking because you "know everyone."
- You stop grinding because you "made it."
The irony is that the very thing that got you the laurels—the hard work and the drive—is often the first thing you lose once you actually receive them. It’s a classic "success is a lousy teacher" situation, as Bill Gates famously put it. He wasn't talking about Greek myths, but he was talking about the exact same human tendency to get lazy once you’re on top.
The Nuance of Achievement
Is it always bad to rest? Honestly, probably not. We live in a culture that’s obsessed with "hustle." Sometimes, you’ve earned the right to sit back for a second. If you just finished a decade-long project, maybe you should enjoy those laurels for a weekend. The problem only starts when the "weekend" turns into a decade.
In the academic world, "laurels" take a different form. Think about the Nobel Prize. Or the Pulitzer. These are the modern wreaths. When someone wins a Nobel, they are often referred to as a "Nobel Laureate." It’s the highest honor. But even there, there’s a known phenomenon called "Nobel Disease," where winners start thinking their expertise in physics somehow makes them experts in biology or politics. They’ve let the laurels go to their head. They’ve stopped the rigorous questioning that got them the prize in the first place.
How to Use the Term Without Sounding Like a Textbook
If you want to use this in your writing or speech, you’ve got to be careful. It can sound a bit "old-timey" if you aren't careful. Use it when you want to emphasize the prestige of an accomplishment or the danger of being too satisfied with yourself.
🔗 Read more: The Secret Behind a Real KFC Coleslaw Copycat Recipe and Why Most People Get the Dressing Wrong
- To describe a win: "After years of grinding in the indie scene, she finally won her laurels with a hit single."
- To give a warning: "Don't get comfortable. If you rest on your laurels now, the competition will pass you by before the end of the quarter."
- To show respect: "He’s a laureate in his field; his word is basically law in this industry."
It’s basically about the weight of history. When you use the word, you’re tapping into a timeline that goes back to the Pythian Games. You’re connecting a modern promotion or a championship win to the same energy that fueled Roman triumphs.
The Linguistic Evolution
Interestingly, "laurel" also gave us the name "Laura" and "Lawrence." It’s baked into our DNA and our naming conventions. Even the word "baccalaureate" (as in a Bachelor’s degree) comes from bacca lauri, which means "laurel berries." Every time someone graduates from college, they are technically being "laureled." They are being recognized for their achievement with a symbolic wreath, even if today it’s just a piece of cardstock and a weird hat.
There’s also the confusion with "Hardy." If you’re of a certain age, you might think of Laurel and Hardy. That has absolutely nothing to do with wreaths, though Stan Laurel was definitely a master of his craft. Just don't get your comedy duos mixed up with your classical metaphors.
Actionable Insights: Moving Beyond the Leaves
Understanding what laurels mean is only half the battle. The real value is in knowing how to manage your own. If you’ve hit a milestone, you need a strategy to keep from becoming a "rest-er."
Audit your current "wins." Look at your resume or your recent projects. Identify which ones you are still relying on for your identity. If your biggest win is more than two years old, you might be entering the "resting" zone. It’s time to find a new mountain.
Seek out "No-Laurel" environments. Find a hobby or a side project where you are a total beginner. Being a "nobody" in a new space prevents the ego-inflation that comes with being a "laureate" in your main career. It keeps you humble and keeps your brain sharp.
Redefine the wreath. Don't view an award as a finish line. View it as a license to take bigger risks. Now that you have the "protection" of your past success, you can afford to fail at something new. Use your laurels as a safety net, not a recliner.
The ancient Greeks didn't just give out wreaths to be nice. They did it to spur competition. They wanted people to keep striving for that "evergreen" status. Whether you’re a poet, an athlete, or just someone trying to get through the work week, the lesson is the same: the leaves are great, but the growth is better.
Keep moving. Keep growing. Don't let the wreath get too heavy.
Next Steps for You
- Identify one "laurel" you’ve been relying on too heavily lately—perhaps a past promotion or a successful project from last year.
- Set a "Next-Level" goal that requires you to learn a completely new skill, ensuring you aren't just coasting on your previous expertise.
- Check your professional bio or LinkedIn; if it’s focused entirely on what you did five years ago, update it to reflect what you are doing right now.