Just Relaxed Blog

Tag: houseplants

  • My Life as a Recovering Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Become a Plant Parent Too)

    My Life as a Recovering Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Become a Plant Parent Too)




    My Life as a Recovering Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Become a Plant Parent Too)


    From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent

    Let’s be honest, my history with plants was more of a graveyard than a thriving jungle. I’m talking crispy leaves, droopy stems, the whole shebang. I was basically the grim reaper of the plant world. But then, something magical happened. I brought home a little succulent named Steve (yes, I name my plants, don’t judge!), and against all odds, he survived! Not only did he survive, but he thrived under my care. That’s when I realized that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t a lost cause after all. And thus began my journey into the wonderful, weird, and surprisingly hilarious world of plant parenthood.

    Stress Relief, One Leaf at a Time

    You know those days when you feel like you’re drowning in to-do lists and deadlines? Yeah, we all have them. But let me tell you, there’s something incredibly therapeutic about digging your hands in some soil, giving your plants a little water, and watching them soak it all up. It’s like meditation, but with more chlorophyll. And the best part? Plants don’t talk back, judge your messy bun, or steal the covers at night. They’re the perfect listeners, even if they do occasionally shed a leaf or two on the carpet. (Just me? Okay, moving on…)

    Plants as Decor: From Bare Walls to Urban Jungle Oasis

    Okay, confession time: I’m a sucker for a good home decor makeover show. But let’s be real, who has the budget for a complete overhaul every season? Not this plant lady! That’s where my leafy friends come in. Plants are like nature’s own little pieces of art. They add life, color, and texture to any room, and the best part is, they come in all shapes, sizes, and levels of sass. (Looking at you, dramatic Fiddle Leaf Fig in the corner.)

    Here are a few ways plants can level up your home decor game:

    • Create a statement: A large potted plant can instantly become the focal point of a room, adding drama and intrigue.
    • Fill empty spaces: Got an awkward corner or a sad, empty shelf? Plants to the rescue!
    • Bring the outdoors in: Even if you live in a concrete jungle, plants can help create a sense of peace and tranquility, reminding you of the beauty of nature.

    Ready to Become a Plant Parent?

    So, there you have it. My journey from plant killer to proud plant parent. It’s been a wild, leafy ride, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world (except maybe for a rare variegated Monstera, but that’s a story for another time). Trust me, if I can keep a plant alive, anyone can!

  • The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and Why You Should Join the Club)

    The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and Why You Should Join the Club)




    From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent

    I used to be a notorious plant killer. Seriously, I could take a cactus down in a matter of weeks. My thumbs weren’t just black, they were practically wearing tiny Grim Reaper costumes. So, when a friend gifted me a resilient snake plant a few years ago, I accepted with a mix of skepticism and dread. To my utter astonishment, not only did the plant survive, it thrived! That’s when my journey into the wonderful world of plant parenthood began, and let me tell you, it’s been a wild (and surprisingly joyful) ride.

    Witnessing the Miracles of Life (and Photosynthesis)

    There’s something incredibly rewarding about nurturing another living thing. And yes, before you roll your eyes, plants are very much alive and kicking (metaphorically, of course). Watching a tiny sprout emerge from the soil or a new leaf unfurl is like witnessing a tiny miracle unfold before your very eyes. Suddenly, you understand those proud plant parent Instagram posts. You, too, will feel the urge to document every new growth spurt and share it with the world (or at least your closest friends).

    And the best part? Plants don’t judge your photography skills (or lack thereof). A blurry photo of your monstera’s newest fenestration is still a thing of beauty in the plant parent world.

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

    My Little Green Guru

    Let’s be honest, my thumbs have never exactly been emerald green. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve managed to kill a cactus with kindness (RIP, Spike). So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a houseplant—“It’ll brighten up your space!” she chirped—I accepted it with the same enthusiasm I reserve for dentist appointments. Little did I know, this leafy green roommate would soon become my unlikely life coach.

    Leafy,” seemed content to just…exist. It wasn’t exactly thriving, but hey, at least it wasn’t a pile of brown mush like my previous attempts at plant parenthood. Then came the day Leafy decided to sprout a new leaf. This wasn’t just any leaf, mind you, this was a monstrous, gangly thing that shot out at an alarming angle. It looked like Leafy was trying to flag down a passing airplane.

    “Seriously?” I muttered, staring at the botanical anomaly. “You couldn’t have grown a nice, normal leaf like a normal plant?”

    But as the days passed, that awkward leaf unfurled, revealing itself to be the most magnificent, vibrant leaf on the entire plant. It was a stark reminder that growth is rarely linear or graceful. Sometimes, we have to embrace the awkward stages, the unexpected detours, and trust that something beautiful will bloom eventually.

    Lesson #2: The Importance of a Good Soak

    Now, I’m a big believer in routine. I like my coffee at 8:00 am, my yoga class at 6:00 pm, and my existential dread promptly at bedtime. So, naturally, I approached Leafy’s care with the same regimented precision. Every Sunday, like clockwork, I’d give it a little sprinkle of water.

    However, it turns out plants, unlike my carefully curated schedule, don’t always adhere to rigid timelines. After weeks of my meticulous mini-waterings, Leafy started to droop. Its leaves went limp, and it looked about as lively as a discarded feather duster. Panicked, I frantically Googled “droopy plant help ASAP!”

    The solution? A good, long soak. Apparently, those little sips weren’t cutting it. Sometimes, we need to ditch the surface-level approach and allow ourselves to be fully immersed in what nourishes us—whether that’s a long bath, a heart-to-heart with a friend, or a weekend spent pursuing a forgotten passion.

  • Confessions of a Recovering Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join My Club)

    Confessions of a Recovering Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join My Club)

    From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent

    Okay, let’s be real. I used to be the grim reaper of greenery. Seriously, I could kill a cactus in a desert during a monsoon.

    plants another shot. And guess what? It wasn’t a total disaster! In fact, it’s been surprisingly…dare I say…joyful?

    The Unexpected Perks of Plant Parenthood

    Here’s the thing about plants: they’re like the low-maintenance roommates you always wished for. They won’t borrow your clothes without asking (looking at you, past roommates!), and they’re perfectly content with a simple routine. But the real surprise? The unexpected joys they bring!

    Instant Zen Masters

    There’s something incredibly therapeutic about tending to your plants. Watering, repotting, even just misting those leafy babies—it’s like meditation with a side of chlorophyll. Plus, studies show that being around plants can actually reduce stress levels. So, basically, my peace lily is my therapist now? Sign me up!

    Décor That Doesn’t Require Assembly

    Forget those frustrating IKEA instructions! Plants are like instant home décor that instantly brightens up your space. They add life, color, and texture—no hammer or Allen wrench required.

  • Why I Started Talking to Plants (and What Happened Next)

    Why I Started Talking to Plants (and What Happened Next)




    Why I Started Talking to Plants (and What Happened Next)

    The Day My Thumb Turned Green(ish)

    Let’s be honest, my history with houseplants was less than stellar. It usually went something like this: bring home beautiful fern, fern flourishes for approximately 48 hours, fern dramatically wilts like a Shakespearean actor playing dead. Repeat. You could practically hear a tiny plant ambulance siren every time I walked into a garden center.

    Then came the fateful day my well-meaning friend gifted me a succulent for my birthday. “It’s impossible to kill!” she assured me. Challenge accepted, universe. Determined to break the curse, I decided to try something radical: talking to it.

    Plant Whisperer

    Look, before you write me off as completely plant-crazy, hear me out. It started small. Just a casual “Good morning, sunshine!” while watering. But then it escalated. I found myself confiding in the succulent about my day, my work woes, even my questionable dating app choices.

    Surprisingly, it was…therapeutic? This little green dude didn’t judge, interrupt with unsolicited advice, or roll its nonexistent eyes at my terrible jokes. Plus, my apartment finally had someone else to listen to my rendition of “Bohemian Rhapsody” in the shower (the neighbors disagree, but that’s their problem).

    Benefits of Talking to Plants: Thriving Greenery and Mindfulness

    Now, I’m not saying talking to my plants gave them magical growth powers (though my succulent IS looking particularly plump these days…). But something shifted. I started paying closer attention. I noticed when the soil was dry, when a leaf looked droopy, when it was time to rotate the pot for optimal sunbathing.

    And you know what? My plants started thriving. My once-barren apartment transformed into a mini jungle, filled with happy, leafy friends. Turns out, all they needed was a little TLC and a listening ear (or, well, stem?).

  • The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and Why You Should Join the Club)

    The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and Why You Should Join the Club)




    Confessions of a Recovering Plant Killer

    Okay, I’ll admit it. I haven’t always had the greenest thumb. In fact, I used to be a notorious plant killer. I’m talking serial succulent assassin, notorious cactus crusher. You name it, I probably managed to send it to plant heaven (or maybe plant purgatory, considering my track record). But then something strange happened. Maybe it was the pandemic, maybe it was a sudden urge to nurture something other than my sourdough starter – whatever it was, I decided to give the whole plant parent thing another shot.

    And you know what? It’s been a wild ride. From unexpected triumphs (seriously, my ZZ plant is thriving) to hilarious mishaps (don’t ask about the Great Potting Soil Explosion of 2021), being a plant parent has brought a whole new level of joy (and chaos) to my life.

    Plants: The Unexpected Benefits of Indoor Green Therapy

    One of the biggest surprises? My plants have become my silent therapists. Seriously! There’s something incredibly calming about tending to your green companions after a long day. It’s like all the stress of the world melts away as you mist your ferns, check for new growth on your monstera, and maybe even have a little one-sided chat with your peace lily (don’t judge, we’ve all been there).

    Plus, there’s a real sense of accomplishment that comes with keeping a plant alive. Remember those days when I was practically a plant grim reaper? Well, now I’m like a plant whisperer. I can practically hear my spider plant whispering, “Thanks for not killing me, Jan.” (Okay, maybe I’m projecting a little, but you get the idea.)

    Life Lessons from the Plant World: Growth, Patience, and Imperfection

    But here’s the thing about plants – they don’t just teach you about responsibility, they also teach you about patience. Like, a lot of patience. You can’t rush a plant (believe me, I’ve tried), you just have to trust the process, give it what it needs, and wait. And sometimes, just when you’re about to give up hope, you’ll see a new leaf unfurling, reaching for the sunlight, and it’s like this tiny little miracle.

    Here are a few other life lessons I’ve picked up from my plant babies:

    • Sometimes you have to prune away the dead stuff to make room for new growth. (Deep, right?)
    • Even the strongest plants need support sometimes. (Hello, moss poles! And also, therapy. Therapy is good.)
    • There’s beauty in imperfection. (Because let’s be real, those perfectly curated Instagram plant shelves? Totally staged.)

    Ready to Become a Plant Parent? Here’s Why You Should!

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant




    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant


    My (Not So) Green Thumb: A Houseplant Journey

    Let’s be honest, I’m not exactly known for my nurturing abilities. I once managed to kill a cactus. A CACTUS. So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a peace lily for my birthday, I accepted with a grimace disguised as gratitude. “It’s low-maintenance,” she assured me. Famous last words.

    Little did I know, this seemingly innocent plant would become my unlikely life coach, dishing out wisdom in the form of wilting leaves and surprising blooms. Who knew a houseplant could teach me so much about life, resilience, and the importance of a little TLC?

    Percy the Peace Lily (yes, I named it)?

    A frantic Google search later, I realized my mistake: Neglect. Turns out, even “low-maintenance” friends need a little love and attention. I started paying closer attention to Percy, noticing its subtle cues. Was it thirsty? Getting too much sun? Did it need a pep talk (don’t judge)?

    The experience was a wake-up call. Just like Percy, the people in my life, however independent, thrived on genuine connection and care. It was a reminder to put down my phone, be present, and appreciate the relationships that truly mattered.

    Lesson #2: Growth Isn’t Always Pretty (But It’s Always Worth Celebrating)

    Over time, Percy the Peace Lily and I found our groove. I learned its rhythm, anticipating its needs. And then, one day, it happened. A new leaf unfurled, a vibrant green beacon of growth. It wasn’t the most graceful process. There were awkward angles, a bit of stretching, and maybe even a few rips (okay, maybe I accidentally bumped it). But it was beautiful.

    Percy’s growth spurt was a powerful reminder that progress isn’t always linear or Instagram-worthy. Life, like growing a plant (or a human, for that matter), is messy and unpredictable. There will be setbacks, awkward phases, and moments where you feel like you’re stuck in the metaphorical pot. But through it all, there’s an inherent beauty in the journey, in the constant striving, reaching, and becoming.

  • Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer: The Unexpected Joys of Plant Parenthood (and Why You Should Join the Club)

    Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer: The Unexpected Joys of Plant Parenthood (and Why You Should Join the Club)




    Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer: The Unexpected Joys of Plant Parenthood (and Why You Should Join the Club)


    From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent

    Let’s be honest, my thumbs have always had a slightly morbid shade of green. I’m talking the kind of green that could make even the most resilient cactus shrivel in fear. I was the ultimate plant assassin, leaving a trail of crispy leaves and droopy stems in my wake. But then, something changed. Maybe it was a global pandemic, maybe it was an early mid-life crisis, or maybe, just maybe, it was the undeniable allure of a particularly charming monstera deliciosa at my local nursery. Whatever it was, I took the plunge, brought home that leafy green monster (pun intended), and braced myself for the inevitable.

    And then… it didn’t die! In fact, it thrived. And with every new leaf unfurling, so did a newfound sense of pride and, dare I say, love? Turns out, being a plant parent comes with a whole host of unexpected joys.

    Stress Relief: Finding Zen One Leaf at a Time

    Remember those adult coloring books that were all the rage? Yeah, plant parenthood is like that, but better. There’s something incredibly therapeutic about digging your hands in the soil, giving your leafy companions a gentle misting, and watching them soak up the sunshine. It’s a form of mindfulness that doesn’t require you to sit still or chant mantras (though, feel free to serenade your plants if that’s your thing).

  • Why I’m Convinced My Plant is Secretly Judging Me

    Why I’m Convinced My Plant is Secretly Judging Me



    We all have our little quirks, right? Maybe you leave dishes “soaking” for a suspiciously long time, or perhaps you’re still rocking that questionable fashion choice from 2008. Whatever it is, we hope our plants don’t notice… right?

    But what if they do? What if, beneath that placid exterior of verdant leaves and vibrant blooms, our houseplants are silently judging our every move?

    The Curious Case of the Dramatic Droop

    It all started innocently enough. I brought home a beautiful fiddle leaf fig, its leaves a symphony of emerald green. I envisioned us as the perfect pair: me, the responsible plant parent, and Ferdinand (yes, I named him), the thriving symbol of my domesticity.

    Oh, how naive I was.

    The first hint of judgment came after a particularly chaotic week. Work deadlines collided with social obligations, leaving little time for anything else, let alone plant care. I walked into my apartment, exhausted but triumphant, only to be greeted by Ferdinand’s dramatic droop.

    Ferdinand with attention (and a generous amount of water). And, just as quickly as he’d wilted, he perked back up. But the suspicion lingered. Could it be mere coincidence, or was this a subtle sign of disapproval?

    My Plant Hates My Cooking: The Suspiciously Timed Sneeze

    As the weeks went by, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Ferdinand was onto me. He seemed to develop a knack for “conveniently” wilting at the most embarrassing moments.

    Like the time I was attempting to impress a date with my (alleged) culinary skills. Just as I was describing my “famous” spaghetti carbonara (read: pasta with scrambled eggs), Ferdinand chose that exact moment to dramatically shed a leaf.

  • Is My Houseplant Silently Judging My Life Choices? (The Answer Might Surprise You)

    Is My Houseplant Silently Judging My Life Choices? (The Answer Might Surprise You)



    Maybe you dropped your phone for the hundredth time that day, or burnt dinner… again. But have you ever gotten that feeling from your houseplant?

    My Fiddle-Leaf Fig Made Me Feel Judged (Really!)

    It all started innocently enough. I was sprawled on the couch, buried under a mountain of blankets, desperately trying to binge-watch my way through a rom-com marathon. Empty pizza boxes littered the coffee table (don’t judge, it was a tough week!), and my laundry hamper overflowed like a forgotten volcano. It was then that I noticed it. My beloved fiddle-leaf fig, Ferdinand, seemed… different.

    His usually perky leaves drooped slightly, and I could have sworn he was leaning away from the chaos. Was it my imagination, or did Ferdinand just give me the botanical equivalent of a disappointed sigh? From that moment on, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Ferdinand was judging my every move.

    Houseplant Was Judging Me: The Evidence

    Exhibit A: The Case of the Neglected Watering Can

    Remember how I mentioned it was a tough week? Well, apparently, Ferdinand took it personally. I walked into my living room one morning to find him looking particularly parched. His soil was bone dry, and his leaves were practically begging for a drink.

    Guilt washed over me. I quickly filled his watering can, muttering apologies as I gave him a much-needed drink. As the water quenched his thirst, I could have sworn I saw a single leaf perk up, as if to say, “It’s about time.” Okay, maybe I was projecting, but the guilt was real.

    Exhibit B: The Great Repotting Debacle

    Convinced that Ferdinand was trying to tell me something, I decided to become a better plant parent. I researched the perfect soil mixture, invested in a stylish new pot, and even downloaded a plant care app (yes, really). The repotting process, however, was less than graceful.

    Picture this: me, covered in dirt, desperately trying to untangle Ferdinand’s roots from his old pot. Let’s just say it wasn’t my most glamorous moment. As I finally managed to wrestle him into his new home, I noticed a few stray leaves scattered on the floor. Ferdinand, meanwhile, remained stoic, but I could practically hear him thinking, “Was all this really necessary?”