Lessons My Plants Taught Me

The first plant I ever owned was a bonsai, gifted by a former partner “to test my nurturing skills”. I was young so I thought it was sweet. I read, I pruned, I overwatered, I killed.

I may have built a wall of defense against plants the day that little imposition of an experiment failed. For decades I simply left them to the experts, none of them me. Then an unexpected, middle-aged (because the human lifespan is at a century now) heartbreak and the wisdom of years had me reaching for life in all its forms. I took extra long walks as if my sanity depended on it (it did). I scanned the clouds for the brightest shaft of sunlight and planted myself in it, turning my face towards the electric, Divine heat of its blessing. My entire being was starved for greenery, birds, sky, and whatever grace their forces could bestow upon me. I walked barefoot in my garden, lay on the grass, and prayed for restoration.

Then I started filling my home with plants. Before I knew it, I was caring for them myself. In the beginning every brown, wilted or fallen leaf sent me into a tailspin. Was everything going to die on me ? I went into overdrive thinking the worst. And yes, some plants perished but many more miraculously lived. And thrived. Slowly, slowly, I learned to give them a wider berth, checking the soil instead of drowning them in fearful overcare. I put them out in the sun when I sensed they needed more light, and I finally understood that a brown leaf today was making space for a bud tomorrow.

I have these lush green beauties to thank for my healing. Every little bit of new green is a triumph of life. They showed me that my sorrow was spiritual compost that made necessary growth possible. Parts of me had to die so that I could usher in the new. I cared for them, but I was really tending to my inner spaces.

I’d like to say that I have much more equanimity around plant life now, but I don’t. I dance in the presence of new shoots and practically throw a party when I’ve managed to rescue one from imminent death. I am no longer that naive girl who was convinced that one plantslaughter tied her eternally to the forces of death. I am finally on the other side — a woman who inspires life wherever she lands.

Angela TapalesComment