I’ve never been a “plant person”. Even though I come from a long line of plant people, garden tenderers, share croppers, and just lovers of all things chlorophyll green, it just wasn’t my thing. I could literally list for you the things I would rather do than water a plant.
But then the pandemic happened. And being home all the time makes you notice things about your abode and I saw that my apartment patio looked sad. Sad and empty. Sure it had kids toys strewn about the concrete floor, but it still felt lacking in some way. I mentioned that one day to my dad and he suggested that I should get some plants for the patio, and matter of fact, he’d swing by that coming day and we’d all go to the nursery and he would spring for a few plants for me.
So we went to our local home improvement store’s nursery/garden and I picked out a few plants and I put them out on my patio. It definitely improved the space aesthetically. But there were days when I forgot to water the plants or there were days when even going out on the aforementioned patio to water the plants seemed like too much work. But they didn’t die. And I kept at it.
Something began to shift in me although this shift took several months if I am being honest. Again, I felt that my ancestors green thumb had bypassed me. But I began to enjoy seeing my plants grow. I loved seeing them bloom into some sort of technicolor bonanza. I even felt closer to my grandmother in some way, even though she passed away over a decade ago. She grew the most beautiful roses I had ever seen and although I am not growing roses per se, I feel she is smiling down on me and happy to know that even though it took several decades, I am carrying on her legacy on my own terms.
Caring for these plants has been its own sort of elixir as well. The world seems to be spinning madly off its axis most days of the week and there are things that are beyond our human control. There is strife. There is desolation. But there is also a bit of happiness in nature and taking care of something and nursing it to an herbal fruition. Taking care of my plants calms my mind and stops the anxiety from volleying back and forth like a ball on a ping pong table. Watering my plants takes me out of my own headspace for a few minutes and steadies my breathing and causes my face to just relax.
My plants have helped me more than I know. I have even added to my collection and repotted a few here and there. I know how to repot plants! Me! It is hard to believe something so simple would make me happy but it does. We have to search for these little nuggets of happiness because life is fleeting. Moments matter. Simple things like this matter. If plants are not your thing, find something that is.
Or stumble across it like I did.
Are you a plant person? Let me know in the comments 🙂
I have a black thumb. I love plants because I do believe they add so much “life” to a place but I cannot keep one alive. I ignore them terribly until they wither away and die and feel awful about it. Max also has a tendency to get a little “too friendly” with them too, if you know what I mean. 🙂 I love, though, how tending to your plants has helped you find some solace in this nutty world and foster a stronger connection to your ancestors too.
I never knew if I had a green thumb or a black thumb; I guess I was just apathetic about the whole thing. But I am glad I have the few plants that I do. I really do enjoy taking care of them 🙂
I’ve noticed that they have really realistic fake plants like fig or olive. They really do look real! Maybe you could get one of those? I am thinking about getting one of those for inside our apartment because my cat and real plants absolutely do not mix. I am sure you can relate! 😉