One can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she takes care of living things. I can tell that you are so caring, and I can see how the plants got you through the pandemic. You take meticulous care of these plants, and their reward is to try to thrive. I love how your plants have reproduced and are healthy.
I can't have plants because most are toxic to cats (I have one spoiled cat). I do understand the taking care of living things philosophy. That's how I am with my kitty.
Oh, Beth, that's such a lovely perspective to say you can tell a lot about a person by how they take care of ALL living things! How true. I have never thought about that before. My mom always told me her grandmother (my "Gigi") said you can tell a lot about a person by whether or not a dog growls at them, because dogs can sense things. I wonder if that might be a good writing prompt: "You can tell a lot about a person by..."
I get what you're saying about cats. I grew up with both cats and dogs. I remember my cat Muffin (who was also very spoiled) used to use my mom's houseplants as a litterbox when she was mad! I think she killed the poinsettia because of it. And my mom planted catnip in the garden outside so that Muffin had something of her own to roll around in.
I loved your analogy of pruning the plants and how it relates to life. "Severe pruning sometimes yields abundant, verdant growth." That's such a powerful image. How often do we hold onto things that are withered or dead, afraid to let go? We think we're preserving something, but really, we're just hindering new growth. Your experience with the plants shows that sometimes, we need to cut away what no longer serves us to make space for something new and vibrant. It's a bit scary, that act of pruning, but the results speak for themselves. It's a lesson in trust, trusting that letting go can lead to something even better. 🩵
It means so much that you take such time with these comments, Alex! I learn so much from you. You are what they call “an old soul,” which you have probably heard before. (People have said this about me, too.) Such wisdom and tenderness. It is so refreshing to have your voice here, because we need more men who are tender and gentle and just give all of us room to breathe for a moment. I am so glad you are sharing your gifts!
I have been called that many times! I relate and agree. I appreciate that. 🩵 One thing I needed early in my adult life was space. And so it is something that I prefer to do for people now - hold space. It is the best thing for healing, growth, community, and more.
"When I avoided thinning or shaping each plant, I endangered it in a way, making it more susceptible to disease or pestilence. I learned quickly that I couldn’t leave my houseplants as they were, or they would become frail and wither far sooner than what their life cycle might be with the proper amount of care."
There are four principles to my minimalist decoration: lots of white/ clear space, wood (shelves, table etc), books and… plants! I love getting my hands in the dirt too :) Sending love (and a little support to you and your family)
Thank you so much, Imola. I am far from a minimalist, but I LOVE my houseplants. They really cheer up a space and refresh it. The wooden bookshelf Ben made me is perfect, too--one of my favorite gifts from him.
I enjoyed reading this, Jeannie, especially the part where you said, “some things remain unchanged by catastrophes, unfazed and undaunted of their happenings even.” It struck me how volatile we are and how easily manipulated by our circumstances. Nature has so much wisdom in its steadiness, in its rhythms, in its oceans and mountains and deserts and forests … how ecosystems are connected and far outlive anything humans do. How even keel things can be outside of us … and how we, if we let go of the illusion of control, can harness some of that peace within.
That's some deep philosophy, Mansi! "If we let go of the illusion of control, we can harness some of that peace within." Your line here reminded me of a dream I had many years ago. I was in the middle of the ocean, arms flailing, because I kept getting swept under by the violent waves. I remember in the dream I felt I was dying. Only when I stopped trying to fight the water did I end up in its embrace, and I looked to the sky and saw the sun. That was the moment of surrender for me, when peace swept over me.
Thanks, Denise. I think nature speaks to a lot of us, and it might possibly be the gateway to how we find our way back to each other and ourselves in this confusing and divisive culture. Nature is grounding. It speaks about life and death and change. It can be both cruel and kind. It beckons us to silence.
Hi Jeannie,
One can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she takes care of living things. I can tell that you are so caring, and I can see how the plants got you through the pandemic. You take meticulous care of these plants, and their reward is to try to thrive. I love how your plants have reproduced and are healthy.
I can't have plants because most are toxic to cats (I have one spoiled cat). I do understand the taking care of living things philosophy. That's how I am with my kitty.
Oh, Beth, that's such a lovely perspective to say you can tell a lot about a person by how they take care of ALL living things! How true. I have never thought about that before. My mom always told me her grandmother (my "Gigi") said you can tell a lot about a person by whether or not a dog growls at them, because dogs can sense things. I wonder if that might be a good writing prompt: "You can tell a lot about a person by..."
I get what you're saying about cats. I grew up with both cats and dogs. I remember my cat Muffin (who was also very spoiled) used to use my mom's houseplants as a litterbox when she was mad! I think she killed the poinsettia because of it. And my mom planted catnip in the garden outside so that Muffin had something of her own to roll around in.
I loved your analogy of pruning the plants and how it relates to life. "Severe pruning sometimes yields abundant, verdant growth." That's such a powerful image. How often do we hold onto things that are withered or dead, afraid to let go? We think we're preserving something, but really, we're just hindering new growth. Your experience with the plants shows that sometimes, we need to cut away what no longer serves us to make space for something new and vibrant. It's a bit scary, that act of pruning, but the results speak for themselves. It's a lesson in trust, trusting that letting go can lead to something even better. 🩵
It means so much that you take such time with these comments, Alex! I learn so much from you. You are what they call “an old soul,” which you have probably heard before. (People have said this about me, too.) Such wisdom and tenderness. It is so refreshing to have your voice here, because we need more men who are tender and gentle and just give all of us room to breathe for a moment. I am so glad you are sharing your gifts!
I have been called that many times! I relate and agree. I appreciate that. 🩵 One thing I needed early in my adult life was space. And so it is something that I prefer to do for people now - hold space. It is the best thing for healing, growth, community, and more.
YES! Holding space is vital, especially in this Information Age with all the multiple distractions at our disposal. It almost seems critical to me.
"When I avoided thinning or shaping each plant, I endangered it in a way, making it more susceptible to disease or pestilence. I learned quickly that I couldn’t leave my houseplants as they were, or they would become frail and wither far sooner than what their life cycle might be with the proper amount of care."
A beautiful post. Here's to necessary pruning. 🙏
Thanks, Kelly! And here's to spring.
There are four principles to my minimalist decoration: lots of white/ clear space, wood (shelves, table etc), books and… plants! I love getting my hands in the dirt too :) Sending love (and a little support to you and your family)
Thank you so much, Imola. I am far from a minimalist, but I LOVE my houseplants. They really cheer up a space and refresh it. The wooden bookshelf Ben made me is perfect, too--one of my favorite gifts from him.
I enjoyed reading this, Jeannie, especially the part where you said, “some things remain unchanged by catastrophes, unfazed and undaunted of their happenings even.” It struck me how volatile we are and how easily manipulated by our circumstances. Nature has so much wisdom in its steadiness, in its rhythms, in its oceans and mountains and deserts and forests … how ecosystems are connected and far outlive anything humans do. How even keel things can be outside of us … and how we, if we let go of the illusion of control, can harness some of that peace within.
That's some deep philosophy, Mansi! "If we let go of the illusion of control, we can harness some of that peace within." Your line here reminded me of a dream I had many years ago. I was in the middle of the ocean, arms flailing, because I kept getting swept under by the violent waves. I remember in the dream I felt I was dying. Only when I stopped trying to fight the water did I end up in its embrace, and I looked to the sky and saw the sun. That was the moment of surrender for me, when peace swept over me.
Thank you for sharing this beautiful piece of writing. I especially like the fact that you find so much beauty and nature as do I.
Thanks, Denise. I think nature speaks to a lot of us, and it might possibly be the gateway to how we find our way back to each other and ourselves in this confusing and divisive culture. Nature is grounding. It speaks about life and death and change. It can be both cruel and kind. It beckons us to silence.