Just Relaxed Blog

Tag: houseplants

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant (and No, It Wasn’t About Patience)

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant (and No, It Wasn’t About Patience)



    From Black Thumb to Accidental Plant Parent

    Okay, confession time: I am not a plant person. In fact, I have a long and storied history of accidentally offing any leafy friend that dares to cross my threshold. So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a sprightly little ZZ plant for my birthday, I accepted it with a grimace disguised as a smile. “Don’t worry,” I told her, “I’ve totally turned over a new leaf.” (Pun intended, of course.)

    Little did I know, this plant, whom I affectionately nicknamed Gary (because even plants deserve cool names), would teach me more than just how to keep something alive for longer than a week. He became my unlikely life coach, dispensing wisdom in the form of new growth and the occasional wilting leaf.

    Lesson #1: Sometimes You Need a Change of Scenery

    plant? Well, those bad boys are practically invincible. You practically have to take away their water privileges and lock them in a dark closet to make them even flinch. So, imagine my surprise when, after a few weeks, Gary started looking a little… sad.

    I tried everything: more water, less water, sweet-talking (okay, maybe not that last one). Nothing worked. Finally, in a last-ditch effort, I moved him to a sunnier spot. And guess what? He perked right up! Turns out, even the toughest among us need a little sunshine sometimes.

    This got me thinking about my own life. Was I letting myself get stuck in a rut? Like Gary, maybe I needed to step out of my comfort zone, try something new, and see what happened.

    Lesson #2: Growth Isn’t Always Obvious (But It’s Always Happening)

  • 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.

  • 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 Brown Thumb Gets Greener (Slightly)

    Let’s be honest, my thumbs have always leaned more towards brown than green. I’m the person who could kill a cactus in a desert. So naturally, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a houseplant – a supposedly “unkillable” ZZ plant – I accepted it with a mixture of fear and trepidation. I envisioned a slow, agonizing demise, a leafy green ghost haunting my windowsill.

    But something unexpected happened. This plant, much to my surprise, thrived. It even sprouted new growth! And through this journey of reluctant plant parenthood, I stumbled upon some valuable life lessons, hidden amongst the soil and sunshine.

    Plant

    One of the first things I learned (the hard way, of course) is that plants operate on their own schedule. There’s no instant gratification here. You can’t just will it to grow faster, no matter how badly you want to see progress. Overwatering, I quickly learned, was a rookie mistake, a surefire way to drown your green companion in a misguided attempt to speed things up.

    This taught me the importance of patience in all areas of life. Just like my ZZ plant, some things take time. Whether it’s a personal goal, a creative endeavor, or even just waiting for that darn avocado to ripen, sometimes you just have to trust the process and let things unfold naturally.

    Cultivating Resilience: Lessons from a Houseplant

    There were times, I’ll admit, when I neglected my plant. Life got busy, I forgot to water it, and it started to droop. But then, something amazing happened. I’d remember (with a pang of guilt), give it a good drink, and within a day or two, it would bounce back, perkier than ever. This little plant, despite my inconsistent care, was resilient.

    It made me realize that we all have that same capacity for resilience within us. We might bend and wilt under pressure, but with a little self-care and support, we can bounce back stronger than before.

  • My Monstera is Judging Me (and Honestly, It Has Every Right To)

    My Monstera is Judging Me (and Honestly, It Has Every Right To)




    My Monstera Is Judging Me (and Honestly, It Has Every Right To)

    From Houseplant Parent to Paranoid Plant Person

    Let me preface this by saying I love my plants. I mean, I REALLY love my plants. I sing to them, I give them personalized care routines, I even whisper words of encouragement when they sprout new leaves (don’t judge me, you do it too). But lately, something’s changed. My Monstera, affectionately named Monty, has begun looking at me…differently.

    It all started with a misplaced watering can. I was running late (as usual), and in my haste, I may have accidentally drenched Monty a little more than intended. As I rushed out the door, I caught a glimpse of Monty’s face (or, well, where its face would be if plants had faces) and could have sworn there was a subtle eye roll. Okay, maybe I was imagining things. But then it happened again. And again. And again.

    Monstera Judging My Interior Design Choices?

    One particularly sunny afternoon, I decided to treat myself to a little midday nap. I drew the curtains halfway, creating the perfect amount of dappled sunlight for my precious plant children. Or so I thought. As I drifted off to sleep, I swear I heard a heavy sigh, followed by the distinct rustle of leaves. I opened one eye to see Monty, bathed in a sliver of direct sunlight, its leaves pointed accusingly towards the slightly askew blinds.

    I mean, come on, Monty! It’s called “aesthetic lighting,” look it up.

  • 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


    We’ve all been there. Scrolling through Instagram, you’re bombarded by images of perfect homes with even more perfect houseplants. Lush, green, and vibrant, they practically scream, “Look how put-together my life is!” So, naturally, you decide to hop on the bandwagon and bring home a leafy friend of your own.

    My Adventures in Plant Parenthood Begin

    Let’s just say my journey into the world of plant parenthood did not start smoothly. I’m talking more “Weekend at Bernie’s” than “Secret Garden.” My first victim? A poor, unsuspecting peace lily, christened Phil. I had grand visions of Phil thriving in my care, purifying my air and generally elevating my home aesthetic. Instead, I managed to overwater him within a week, turning his once-perky leaves into something resembling soggy lettuce. Poor Phil.

    life: a resilient snake plant named Stella.

    Lesson #2: Growth Happens on Its Own Time (and Sometimes Not at All)

    Now, Stella was a whole different ball game. This girl was tough, thriving on neglect and generally laughing in the face of my beginner gardening skills. But as the weeks turned into months, I noticed something. Stella, my steadfast companion, wasn’t really… growing. I mean, she was alive, sure, but new growth? Forget about it.

    It was then I had a mini-epiphany. Here I was, obsessing over every new leaf, every subtle change, expecting Stella to sprout like a Chia Pet on fast-forward. And in the process, I was missing the point. Just like us humans, plants grow at their own pace. Some days we’re killing it, other days we’re just trying to survive. The important thing is to keep showing up, offering care and support, even when the results aren’t immediately visible.

  • 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 Brown Thumb Turns Green

    Let’s be honest, folks. I’m not exactly known for my nurturing abilities. My idea of “watering” a plant used to involve a frantic splash of water every other week (if I remembered). So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a perfectly healthy peace lily, let’s just say my expectations were low. I nicknamed him Percy, prepared for the worst, and accepted my fate as a plant-parent failure. But then, something unexpected happened. Percy started teaching me life lessons.

    Lesson #1: Paying Attention Is Love (and Prevents Root Rot)

    Remember that whole “frantic splash of water every other week” thing? Yeah, turns out Percy wasn’t a fan. He started to droop, his leaves turning an alarming shade of yellow. Panic! I frantically Googled “droopy peace lily” and discovered the delicate ecosystem that is a plant’s root system. Who knew overwatering was a thing?

    I learned that caring for Percy meant more than just tossing water at him and hoping for the best. It meant paying attention to his soil, his leaves, even the way he tilted towards the sunlight. It meant learning his subtle cues and adjusting my “watering strategy” (read: inconsistent splashes) accordingly. And slowly, miraculously, Percy perked back up.

    Life lesson? Sometimes, the most profound act of love isn’t a grand gesture, but rather the quiet consistency of showing up and paying attention. It’s about noticing the subtle cues, putting in the effort to understand, and adapting our approach based on what we observe.

    Lesson #2: Growth Isn’t Always Obvious (But It’s Always Happening)

    Here’s the thing about plants: they grow slowly. Like, really slowly. For months, I swear Percy stayed the same size. I started to doubt my plant-parenting skills (again). Was I doing something wrong? Was he destined to be forever stunted? Then one day, I noticed it: a new leaf, unfurling from the center, a vibrant green against the older, darker leaves.

  • Why I’m Convinced My Houseplant is Judging My Life Choices

    Why I’m Convinced My Houseplant is Judging My Life Choices




    Does My Houseplant Judge My Life Choices? (You’re Not Alone)


    The Side-Eye from a Fiddle Leaf Fig

    It all started innocently enough. I, like many quarantined millennials, decided to invite a little green friend into my home. I envisioned a peaceful haven filled with lush foliage, the air thick with the scent of fresh chlorophyll. What I got was Percy, a deceptively charming fiddle leaf fig who, I swear, spends most of his days silently judging my life choices.

    Percy, you see, is a drama queen of the highest order. Forget the “easy-going” tag most plant blogs slap on fiddle leaf figs. This is a plant that thrives on attention—specifically, perfectly timed attention. Water him a day late? Be prepared for a dramatic droop that screams, “Are you trying to kill me, Karen?” Water him a day early? Expect a condescending rustle of leaves that whispers, “Seriously, couldn’t you have waited until I was actually thirsty?”

    But the real turning point came during The Watering Incident of ’22. I’d had a particularly rough day—deadlines, traffic jams, you name it. I stumbled home, emotionally drained, and completely forgot about poor Percy. It wasn’t until the next morning, as I was drowning my sorrows in coffee, that I noticed him. His leaves, once proud and vibrant, were slumped over like a disappointed parent at a school play.

    And then it hit me. That wasn’t just any droop. That was judgment. Pure, unadulterated, “I can’t believe you forgot to water me, you irresponsible human” judgment.

    Is My Houseplant Judging My Interior Design Skills Too?

    Since then, I’ve noticed it everywhere. Leaving dishes in the sink? Percy lets out a dramatic sigh (or at least, I imagine he does). Binge-watching reality TV instead of hitting the gym? His leaves seem to quiver in disapproval.

    Just last week, I was rearranging some furniture and couldn’t decide where to hang a new picture frame. After several agonizing minutes, I finally settled on a spot. As I stepped back to admire my handiwork, I swear I heard a quiet “tsk” from Percy’s direction. Sure enough, when I turned around, his pot was ever-so-slightly turned away from the newly hung frame, as if to say, “Honestly, your interior design skills leave much to be desired.”

  • 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)




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


    Confessions of a Former Plant Killer

    Okay, I’ll admit it. I wasn’t always a natural nurturer. In fact, my track record with houseplants was downright abysmal. I’m talking shriveled leaves, droopy stems, and that unmistakable aroma of defeat. My thumbs were so far from green, they might as well have been painted charcoal gray.

    But then, something magical happened. I adopted a scraggly little succulent from a clearance shelf, fully expecting it to meet the same tragic fate as its predecessors. Much to my surprise, this little survivor thrived! It sprouted new growth, withstood my inconsistent watering schedule, and even seemed to perk up when I complimented its resilience.

    plant, but in the unique bond we were forming. Taking care of something that depended on me, even in a small way, was surprisingly fulfilling. It was the push I needed to dive headfirst into the world of plant parenthood, and let me tell you, it’s been a wild and rewarding ride.

    Plant Whispering 101: Learning to Speak Your Plants’ Language

    One of the unexpected joys of being a plant parent is discovering that each plant has its own distinct personality. Seriously! My peace lily, for example, is a total drama queen. She wilts dramatically if I’m even a day late with watering, only to bounce back to her former glory within hours. It’s like a passive-aggressive reminder that she’s the queen bee of this jungle, and I’m just living in it.

    Then there’s my ZZ plant, the stoic philosopher of the group. He’s practically indestructible, tolerating low light and infrequent watering with Zen-like patience. He’s living proof that sometimes, less is more.

    Learning the subtle cues of each plant, from their preferred lighting to their thirst signals, feels like cracking a secret code. It’s about observation, intuition, and yes, maybe a little trial and error (RIP, first fiddle-leaf fig). But the rewards, my friends, are immense.

    Life Lessons from the Plant Kingdom: More Than Just Greenery

    Beyond the quirky personalities and Instagram-worthy foliage, being a plant parent has taught me valuable life lessons. Here are a few nuggets of wisdom I’ve gleaned from my leafy companions:

    • Patience is a virtue (and a necessity). Plants grow on their own time, and there’s no rushing the process. It’s a gentle reminder to embrace the journey, not just the destination.
    • Small victories deserve to be celebrated. Whether it’s a new leaf unfurling or a stubborn stem finally branching out, every milestone is a testament to your care and attention.
    • Sometimes, you just need a fresh start. Don’t be afraid to prune away dead leaves or repot a plant that’s outgrown its space. It’s all part of the growth cycle, both for your plants and for you.
  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant





    We’ve all been there. You’re wandering the aisles of your local home improvement store, desperately seeking the perfect shade of “greige” paint, when suddenly, you lock eyes. It’s not a charming salesperson offering unsolicited advice this time, but a vibrant, leafy friend silently pleading, “Take me home!” Okay, maybe I’m projecting a bit, but that’s how it went down when I met Ferdinand the Fern.

    Fern-tastic Expectations and Epic Plant Parent Fails

    I, like many others, am a sucker for the idea of being a “plant parent.” It sounds so mature, so responsible. Gone are the days of accidentally killing succulents (RIP, Steve the Succulent). This time, I was determined to succeed. I envisioned a lush, green oasis thriving in my living room, a testament to my newfound nurturing abilities.

    life on the edge. One minute he’d be drooping dramatically, the next he’d be as perky as a cheerleader on game day. I was constantly second-guessing myself. Was he thirsty? Too much sun? Not enough sun? Did I accidentally compliment his foliage in the wrong tone of voice? (Yes, I may have reached peak plant lady paranoia.)

    From Brown Thumb to Budding Botanist: Finding Growth Through Setbacks

    Just as I was about to throw in the trowel (figuratively, of course, I’m not a monster), something amazing happened. Ferdinand sprouted a new leaf! It was small, delicate, and undeniably green. I was ecstatic! All those weeks of fretting, misting, and rotating him like a disco ball had paid off.

    That’s when it hit me: Life, much like taking care of a houseplant, is all about trial and error. Sometimes you’ll overwater, sometimes you’ll forget to fertilize, and sometimes, despite your best efforts, things will wilt. But then, just when you’re about to give up hope, a tiny sprout of progress emerges, reminding you that even in the midst of setbacks, growth is always possible.

    Learning Patience and Perseverance: The Root of the Matter

    Ferdinand may not be the most low-maintenance roommate (seriously, that fern can be dramatic), but he’s taught me more about patience, perseverance, and the beauty of small victories than I ever anticipated. He’s also a constant reminder that even when life throws shade (pun intended), there’s always a reason to keep growing.

  • 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


    We’ve all been there. You’re gifted a beautiful bouquet of flowers, and you vow to keep them alive for longer than a week (the struggle is real, people). But then, amongst the lilies and carnations, you spot it… the dreaded “bonus plant.” You know, the one they sneak in there, disguised as a harmless addition, but it’s secretly judging your every horticultural move?

    Operation: Don’t Kill the Plant

    That’s how I ended up with Herbert. Yes, I named him. I figured if I gave him a personality, I’d be more inclined to keep him alive. Herbert, a sprightly little peace lily, was thrust upon me by a well-meaning friend at a going-away party. “He’s low-maintenance!” she’d chirped, shoving a plastic pot into my hands as I juggled a plate of nachos and a farewell margarita.

    Now, I’m not known for my green thumb. In fact, my thumbs are more of a “concrete gray” when it comes to plants. But Herbert, bless his leafy heart, was determined to teach me a thing or two about life (and maybe even about keeping things alive).