I have a traumatic past with houseplants. I’m good at other things -like Jenga, and knowing when the noodles are al dente. But I forget to water plants. I over-corrected myself last week and watched a cactus die in my very own windowsill. I always end up being too much or not enough. It would be easier to own an artificial plant. But something that lasts forever is never as beautiful as something that is real.
It’s easy to blame my plant past on my lack of knowledge, but usually lack of knowledge really means lack of care, attention or interest. They come with a paper arrow of instructions dug down into their soil. It is the plant shouting “This is what I need. This is how to keep me alive.” Ignoring the individual instructions of each special plant, I water them each the same. Whenever is convenient for me. But it’s Sunday morning and I’m not going to live like that again.
I will give you all the water you need- but I won’t let you stand in the water. I will keep you warm, but never let you go dry. I will keep you healthy and out of direct sunlight. I will give you the air and the space you need. I will let you live. I will let you thrive. I will be better. With plants and with people. With ideas and dreams. With expectations and disappointments. With transitions and adjustments. With my time and with my thoughts. With my own heart and mind. I will let you live.