Just Relaxed Blog

Tag: cactus care

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Cactus

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Cactus

    From Black Thumb to Budding Botanist (Well, Sort Of)

    Let’s be honest, I’m about as far from a “plant person” as you can get. My idea of gardening used to involve watering plastic flowers and hoping nobody noticed (don’t judge!). So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a cactus for my birthday, I was less than thrilled. “Great,” I thought, “another living thing I’m destined to destroy.” Little did I know, this prickly plant, whom I affectionately named Spike, would end up teaching me more about life than I could have imagined.

    Lesson #1: Resilience is a Beautiful Thing

    Now, Spike didn’t have it easy. I’m talking accidental dehydration, near-death experiences from overwatering (oops!), and even a close encounter with my cat, Mittens, who seemed to think he was a scratching post. But through it all, Spike persevered. He bounced back from every mishap, stronger and more vibrant than before.

    life throws curveballs, we have the inner strength to not only survive but to flourish.

    Lesson #2: Sometimes, You Just Need a Little Space

    One of the biggest mistakes I made with Spike? Smothering him with attention (yes, it’s possible to smother a cactus with love!). I was constantly fussing over him, convinced that my constant care was the only thing keeping him alive. But I soon learned that Spike, like all cacti, actually thrived on a bit of neglect. He needed space to breathe, soak up the sun, and do his own thing.

  • Prickly Wisdom: The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Cactus

    Prickly Wisdom: The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Cactus

    My Desert Guru in a Tiny Pot

    Let’s be honest, I’m not exactly known for my green thumb. In fact, my houseplants tend to meet their demise with alarming regularity. So, why on earth I decided a cactus needed to be my roommate is still a mystery. Maybe it was the allure of low maintenance, or perhaps I was drawn to its prickly charm. Whatever the reason, there I was, staring at a miniature desert dweller sitting on my windowsill, completely unaware that this spiky little guy was about to school me in some serious life lessons.

    Lesson 1: Resilience is a Thorny Business

    Now, I’m a sucker for instant gratification. I want results, and I want them yesterday. But my cactus, oh, he was on island time. He grew at a pace that could only be described as glacial. I’m talking microscopic changes over months. It was like watching paint dry… in slow motion.

    But here’s the thing: he kept growing. Through scorching summers and chilly drafts, he stubbornly persisted, proving that real growth takes time. He taught me that even when progress feels invisible, even when we feel like giving up, resilience means showing up day after day, even if it’s just to sprout a new, tiny spike.

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Cactus

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Cactus




    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Cactus


    My Prickly Professor

    Let’s be honest, I’m not exactly known for my green thumb. In fact, my houseplant track record is better described as a graveyard of good intentions. But then came Cedric.

    Cedric, you see, is a cactus. A spiky, stubborn, surprisingly charismatic cactus that my well-meaning friend gifted me for my birthday. “He’s low-maintenance,” she promised, knowing my history. And she was right. Little did I know, Cedric would become much more than just a low-maintenance houseplant. He’d become my unlikely life coach.

    Cedric, however, operates on a different level of drama. He doesn’t wilt. He endures.

    He’s been through accidental droughts (oops!), less-than-ideal lighting, and even a near-death experience when a rogue frisbee took a detour through my living room. Yet, there he stands – or rather, sits – unfazed. Cedric taught me that resilience isn’t always graceful. Sometimes, it’s about digging your roots in deep, weathering the storm, and coming out the other side a little rough around the edges but undeniably stronger.

    Lesson #2: Embrace Your Individuality and Thrive in Your Own Way

    Confession time: I used to compare Cedric to my friend’s flourishing ferns and vibrant orchids. “Why can’t you be more like them?” I’d think, completely missing the point. Cedric wasn’t meant to be a fern or an orchid. He was a cactus, perfectly content in his own spiky skin.

    And that, my friends, was a lightbulb moment. We spend so much time comparing ourselves to others, striving for a version of success that might not even suit us. Cedric reminded me that true growth comes from embracing our individuality, nurturing our strengths, and thriving in our own unique ways. He might not produce fragrant blooms, but he offers a different kind of beauty – one of resilience, adaptability, and quiet strength.

  • The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and No, I Don’t Mean Children)

    The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and No, I Don’t Mean Children)




    The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and No, I Don’t Mean Children)

    From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent: My Journey Begins

    Let’s be honest, before I became a “plant parent,” I thought succulents were just trendy desk decorations for people who had their lives together. My own history with plants involved more brown, crunchy leaves than thriving greenery. I was the queen of unintentional plant homicide. But then, something changed. Maybe it was a global pandemic, maybe it was a quarter-life crisis, or maybe it was just a really cute cactus at the grocery store—whatever it was, I brought home my first plant, a spiky little dude named Harold.

    Plant Care 101

    Turns out, keeping a plant alive is a bit more involved than I initially thought (who knew?). Suddenly, I was Googling things like “How much sunlight does a cactus need?” and “What is perlite?” I learned about drainage, humidity, and the mysterious world of fertilizers. It was like going on a series of awkward first dates, trying to understand the needs and desires of this silent, leafy being.

    But here’s the thing: I started to enjoy it. There was something oddly satisfying about figuring out the perfect watering schedule for Harold or noticing a new spike emerge. It was like cracking a code, except the reward was a living, breathing organism (well, breathing might be a stretch, but you get the idea).

    Celebrating the Small Wins: Plant Parenthood Milestones

    Being a plant parent is all about celebrating the small stuff. Here are a few personal highlights that made me feel like I was finally winning at this whole adulting thing:

    • The day Harold finally flowered: It was a single, tiny bloom, but I swear, I almost cried. I immediately sent a picture to everyone I knew, like a proud parent showing off their kid’s finger painting.
    • Successfully propagating my first succulent: Turns out, you can grow a whole new plant from just a leaf! It felt like actual magic, and now I have baby succulents popping up everywhere.
    • Keeping a peace lily alive for more than six months: For someone who used to kill cacti, this felt like a major accomplishment. Take that, plant demons of my past!