I purchased two plants because I decided I needed to “get back to nature,” and connect with something green. That, and they were to be an affirmation of my “fresh” start after a series of poor decisions. Well, my beautiful, bamboo shoot of a plant, has taken a turn and one of its leaves is looking yellow.
I marched my way to the plant store. “Excuse. My bamboo is looking a little sick.”
“What’s the problem with it?”
“One of its leaves has turned yellow.”
“Oh, that’s normal. It’s adjusting to the space. Maybe it doesn’t like where it is?”
“Uh, whaaaat? It doesn’t like the space?! It’s in my bedroom!”
This raucous banged through my head as I stared at the kind man with an attempt at my poker face, while he seemingly attacked my intimate space. My plant personally insulted my bedroom with its yellow leaf, and this man is the messenger, the plant-to-English translator.
I left the shop with as few answers as I’d entered with, and marched back home. Upon re-entering my apt., I headed towards my bedroom with purpose. I picked up the vase and moved the plant to another location in my bedroom. Maybe the plant likes my bedroom, but doesn’t like it’s permanent location within the space? Maybe it’s a Feng Shui thing? I moved it next to the other plant I purchased, thinking it may want some company. Are plants like pets? Do they need someone to play and chat with when their owner is away for the day? I don’t know, but I did a bit of rearranging, and removed all clutter so the plant had some room to breathe.
I whipped out my guitar convinced I could serenade the plant back to green. Amidst my rendition of “Let it Be,” I realized the amount I cared the plant recovered. This was my plant I had chosen to care for, and I really wanted to properly care for it. Maybe it’s the innocence of the plant? It can’t be left to fend for itself, it can’t call for help or ask to be fed, and it can’t argue or complain. Perhaps it brings out the innate sense of compassion we all have, to care for that which needs to be cared for. The plant only brings beauty and goodness into my bedroom; the least I can do is care for it with utmost attention.
If we stood back and cared for all that brings beauty into our lives, we’d move slower, with greater mindfulness, and more patience. Then perhaps, we’d turn inwards and realize maybe we need the same attention and care we’re giving outwards? Do you need some room to breathe, some healthy new company, or even a personal tune?
How can you nurture yourself with the same amount of energy you use to nurture others?
How can you rearrange your life to better grow?