today i am full of love and delight. i kissed a houseplant, more than once. my heart is singing with gratitude.
do you ever find yourself so overcome with joy that you kiss things ~ like flowers? or trees? or ferns? the occasional pinecone… or perhaps even the ground itself? so grateful that they exist, that you are sharing in the miracle of existence together?
i absolutely do.
i recently got my hands on some plants. houseplants that i’ve had a strong desire to invite into my space, for a long time. there were years when i just thought about them, wanting them to be a part of my space.
eventually i looked them up and wrote their names down on a list.
and, since there were many other things on many other lists that begged more immediate attention, they waited there, for a long long time. but i had an intention. and i find that following through on intentions such as these ~ ones that come from a place of deep desire and inner knowing ~ is magnificently rewarding. i highly recommend it.
in my twenties, i spent a lot of time learning what didn’t work for me. in some ways, if you allow yourself to really take it in, this information is just as vital knowing what actually does work. as i emerged from that period, i chose to look at those meandering years, during many of which i felt decidedly lost, out of alignment, and even stuck, as valuable beyond measure. precious. the lessons therein helped learned to steer my course in new directions. they turned me into the person i am. and in so many ways, they led me, to the place i am right now.
during some of those years, i felt isolated, lackluster, depressed. my living situation was notoriously unstable. i didn’t have any interest in the experience of truly nourishing myself. i was not thriving. and i spent a lot of time worrying about losing things that were never really mine to begin with. i felt heavy, and often afraid.
through those dark periods, i was blessed to have an exceptional dog alongside me. she was my lighthouse, my heart. she was powerful and loving and show taught me a lot about pure friendship. i’m not sure what i would have done without her companionship.
i also found myself in the company of some very special plants. no, not that kind of plant. these were houseplants. they were incredible. inspiring. they seemed to thrive and grow no matter what.
one of them lived in a coffee can. no matter. their ability to sustain themselves, emitting their very own kind of calm, steady energy, continuing to emerge further and further into the world, was a source of wonder and light and grace, even in the darkest of times.
i loved these plants, wholeheartedly. this in itself was good for me, just as it was to share the immensity of my love with my dog. a practice in the art of give and take, which i dearly needed.
at the time, i knew this plant as a “Wandering Jew.” yikes. otherwise known as Bolivian Wandering Jew, Turtle vine, Creeping Inch plant, or Bolivian Turtle vine. Ok, that’s a little better.
this low period was a solid 20 years ago. my life is so different now, in ways i won’t go into. but i found myself yearning to have those plants around me again. i allowed this urge to remain in the background for years. and yet, i never forgot or let go of that impulse. i waited a long time. and finally, i acted.
the day i brought those plants home was euphoric. i was overcome with glee. the fulfilling of a deep and powerful wish. the culmination of years of waiting, a sense of such profound satisfaction. it was a long time coming.
as i stood in my kitchen holding these new plants in my hand, it all came rushing back to me. i fully felt the degree to which i had befriended those plants. i realized that they had actually been there for me. and now, here at last, my opportunity to reconnect. the sweet green song of life vibrating from within their leaves… their gentleness, their calming presence. their easygoing kindness.
i burst with joy. i kissed their leaves. i kissed them again. reunited, at long last, with an old friend.
there was another plant i brought home ~ and kissed ~ that day, that was also a plant of my past. more distant even. my grandmother kept them in pots, artfully placed on a beautiful low bench in a quiet, sunny hallway. they infused their energy into this space. to me, they were grace embodied. i’ve had it in mind to bring a few into my house for years.
this delicate and elegant plant is commonly called purple shamrock. otherwise known as oxalis triangularis. or false shamrock.
now my turtle vine and oxalis are thriving, gently gracing my space with their elegance, their friendship, their kindness. i continue to feel the gratitude overflow when i see them.
recently i returned from the longest solo trip i’ve taken since becoming a mother. i was gone for 11 days. when i entered into my study, i felt an unexpected burst of love and delight upon seeing my plants.
i had missed them! i had no idea. and there they were. holding space, sharing their magical, settled energy. quietly growing.
overcome with love for these dear dear friends, i kiss houseplants now, regularly. i kiss pinecones. i kiss leaves in the garden. sometimes i come across a flower that invites me to land a small kiss upon its petals. a sacred message. a subtle offering.
friendship may come in surprising forms. support, unexpected at times, is all around.
we can become channels of love and appreciation, affection and glee. it can pour effortlessly out of our being, onto the soil, onto our friends and loved ones, onto anything we encounter.
we can attune to the vibrations in our living spaces, inviting new elements into it from time to time. we can reconnect with currents that speak to us deeply. they are not lost.
and certain things are worth a very long wait.
