There is something so magical about nursing a plant to adulthood. Prior to this year in the heat of COVID, I had never raised a plant. Nor had I ever thought about raising a plant.
Today I have maybe 15 plants and counting. A few of them are taller than me 😂.
By large I mean almost 5 feet tall and 4 feet wide. I remember when I had to move out of my apartment in Santa Barbara, where my plants first called home, to the Bay Area this September.
I struggled so much as I knew these plants were not going to be easy to transport, and likely wouldn’t like the cold and dry climate of the Bay. After consulting some friends on if I should gift them or sell them, I ultimately decided to keep them. Thinking about them in another home, with another caretaker haunted me.
What if they didn’t get enough sunlight? What if they weren’t watered frequently enough? What if they died – in that moment of fear I realized I couldn’t let go.
These plants are my children. I purchased them as babies, with torn-up leaves, struggling to stand tall on their own stems, and gave them the care they needed to thrive. Now they’re huge, monstrous plants quadrupled in size. Almost fully self-sufficient on their own.
In the span of the year these plants have intertwined their roots deep into the veins of my heart. As crazy as it is to say, I love them.
If anything happened to them, I would be devastated. Everytime a leave of theirs droops then yellows, my heart breaks a little.
A week later…a new leaf blooms, stronger and larger than the last. My heart starts beating a little slower as my distress dissipates and my smile widens at the sight of new growth.
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The biggest reason I was unsure of keeping my plants is the thought of them dying in my care.
After I moved to the Bay I wasn’t sure if my monstera had reached its max. That there would be no new growth and this was the end. The roots had browned and the leaves had drooped lower than I’d ever seen them. I had lost hope.
Then 1 night I saw it, a new leaf! After almost 3 months of no new growth, a leaf finally bloomed! A healthy strong leaf, with another on the way. To say I was overjoyed is an understatement. I’ve watched that plant struggle for months and finally, FINALLY, it’s recovered!
I truly was one happy plant mom.
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I’d say raising a plant is an intro to having a dog or raising any life form. They can be fickle and whine about too little or too much water. Too little or too much sunlight. I’ve learned to just let plants be, and tough it out. I don’t use fertilizer or grow lights. I don’t chop off dying leaves. I let me plants live as they should. Riding the highs and lows of life without unnecessary intervention.
As such my plants have thrived all on their own.
They’re resilient, able to able to adapt to a new home, climate, and sun exposure. Able to fight off diseases and protect themselves. I’ve never intervened and I don’t plan to in the course of their lives. If they die they die. If they thrive they thrive. That’s just how life goes. Hopefully from their remains there will be new growth. The beginning of another greater and more resilient generation.
There’s a lot we can learn from plants. Look closely. Examine how they live. How they let go of the bad to make room for the new. How fend off disease and recover from even the most dire of circumstances. How they never give up. And most importantly how they love.
Plants love light, water, and joy. I swear when I’m happy my plants are too. We feed off of each other’s energy. Sharing light when we need to. For that I’ll be forever grateful for my plants – for having given me so much over the past year. For sharing their love, light, and air with me.
Plants give me life and in turn we do the same.
So She Dares 
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