I have my own self-made garden. My space for finding peace of mind.
Insights of a Plant Lady
They don't have a sense of time. Even if we name them and give them an identity, they don't grasp on to it. The plants don't come and tell me a story or tell me who I should be, Plants just do their own thing. I can't tell them what to do, or rather, I can tell them but they don't listen. They have access to their own wisdom. It is not my order that will cause a plant to develop; I have no power over them. Sure, I mess with their surroundings, but it's up to them to keep going.
They absorb what the environment provides and either grow or die. Or they begin to wither until you find a better environment. This is a plant parent's responsibility; I provide the finest environment for my plants to grow in.
Some may have their own explanation for the job, or they may have no idea what the jobs involve. But I feel a sense of duty for my plants, as if I want to be a proud plant mom and take the greatest care of them possible, you know?
Do They Give a Damn About Me?
Okay, I won't pretend to know the answer. There's a part of me that believes they do care about me... I talk to them, water and wash them, and celebrate their blossoms and progress. They offer me so much delight, and as much as I hope they would do the same for me, I don't believe they do.
Should people do that for me is a selfish belief. They're not beautiful for me, but they're lovely to me. So perhaps I am the selfish one, looking after them in order to bring beauty into my own life. We both live for our own wants while still taking care of one other.
Do They Like My Voice?
I've heard that if you speak to plants with encouragement and love, they will grow faster. They are the ideal audience for someone learning to accept her voice rather than hide it. To keep in mind that I, too, express beauty, but not for the sake of beauty.
When I sing to them, it is a gift of rhythm from the heart. When I connect with them and exchange songs with them, we are both in our rawest form. I like to believe that when I hear the call to sing to them, it is coming from them.
Is it a Comfortable Environment for Them?
In order to be a good plant parent, I felt compelled to give them as much space as possible. To construct for the sake of their beauty. To sit in front of the window, my friend and I made a hanging display with three layers of five-foot-long shelves.
A drill, scissors, and sandpaper were used to create a designated place for the plants. It makes me happy every day to think about them and see what they've inspired me to make. To fill their space with new life, other beautiful keepsakes, and inspirational trinkets.
The house had an old wooden ladder in the backyard that had been left to rot, gathering mushrooms and spider nesting; nonetheless, this wood still had life, it only needed a chance. Plus, my plant family was still growing, so I touched it up and brightened up another area of the house. Trees are like all of our grandparents and mothers, so having them sustain my plants feels natural.
Do They have any Affection for Me?
It goes without saying that these plants hold a special place in my heart; their presence brings me calm and comfort. In front of the floating triangle I made for my sacred area, my favorite spot is. I made it my altar, filled it with objects and plants which I am connected to and which offer me joy.
It feels comforting to sit in this space, like if I'm being held. That the plants are somehow reserving space for me. They simply stand by and watch as I process, cry, shout, and dance without feeling isolated. I can't help but wonder if their new leaves are reaching for me when they grow.
Are They Aware that They are Educators?
With nowhere to escape and nowhere to hide, I used the pause in the world as an opportunity to finally enter my inner life. My plants and garden taught me a lot, such as what a growing environment can do; that I was the same as them, an extension of Mother Earth; and that I, too, possess unique beauty and am capable of producing fruits of labor.
But, like them, I had to connect to my own wisdom. This process involved me treating my inner landscape as if it were a weed-infested garden. Restoring this inner garden takes time and effort. It would have been simple to become lost in my own craziness, but the plants were always there for me to reconnect with; to get my hands in the ground and recall who I was.
To remember that my seeds can grow if I am willing to nurture and create an environment of growth for them.
Do They Realize How Much I Love Them?
When I have to trim my plants, it's always a big day. How can I cut these creatures I love? bringing the blade to them is a bizarre counter intuitive emotion. That's precisely what I'm saying, because I love them. We sometimes need to make space, to release pieces of ourselves, in order to grow more.
I was given a set of Fiskars tools when my affection for green was apparent to… well everyone. They contribute to the ritual of propagating new life, my special tools. So there is magic infused even when I have to undertake the difficult aspects of being a plant parent. Then I get to give others the things I care about most and watch as fresh life emerges.