| A year ago, I was afraid to go outside. The COVID-19 pandemic was becoming a real threat with cases climbing by the day, particularly in the greater New York City area where I live. I thought if I simply stepped outside my apartment, I was next. As someone who loves the outdoors and yearns for those first warm days of spring more than anything after the dark, cold winter months, I felt trapped. Of course in the weeks and months to come, I would learn that being outside was safe and my walks by the water would become a mental health lifesaver. Still, I was looking for a way to bring the outside in since that's where I was spending the majority of my time. So I bought a houseplant. And then another. And then another. The truth is, I never had a green thumb until this year. I'd kill any plant that came under my care. I still feel terrible about what happened to my best friend Sam's favorite fern when she asked me to water it for a few weeks. "Bob" didn't stand a chance. I like to think I just loved it (read: watered it) too much. So I was nervous about my first—a cute, little tiger aloe type plant—but I was also determined to keep it alive. Here's the thing. I didn't smother it with my "love" and actually gave it some room to breathe, watered it at appropriate times, and marveled at its growth. And let me tell you, it's not only thriving, but I've already repotted it four times, and have even been able to gift some to others, including Sam. I felt so proud of myself for keeping it alive, loved the ritual of caring for it, and quickly decided it needed some company. So several trips to the farmers' market and plant shops later, I'm now a full-blown crazy plant lady. I enjoy checking in on them, naming them ("Kamala" is a beautiful, fast-growing tradescantia bought right after the election results were announced), caring for their unique needs as I learn more about each kind, and of course, feeling surrounded by the comfort of nature during my endless workday Zoom calls. During this year of COVID, these plants represent something even more than a hobby. They have been a distraction from the constant news cycle. They have given me joy, when there has been so much sadness. And they have represented growth and change, when so many of us have just felt stuck in place this year. Now, if I dig a little deeper here, nurturing my plants has shown me how capable I am of caring for something other than myself, keeping it alive, and watching it grow into something truly remarkable. At 21 weeks pregnant, and after suffering a pregnancy loss in the summer, I'm harnessing that confidence more than ever. I know motherhood will be a new, very different adventure, but I'm up for the challenge—and I have my 13 little plant babies to thank for helping me get to this place mentally. 13. Hmm. While the state of our world is looking up these days, I'm still a little superstitious, so something tells me I should probably get just one more. |
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