Just Relaxed Blog

Tag: houseplants

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

    Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join My Green Thumb Club)




    Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join the Green Thumb Club)


    Let’s be real – before I became a “plant parent,” my thumbs were about as green as a flamingo in a tutu. I’m talking serial plant killer here. If it photosynthesized, I probably accidentally offed it with too much love (read: water). But then something changed. Maybe it was a global pandemic, maybe it was an early mid-life crisis, or maybe, just maybe, it was destiny. Whatever the reason, I went full-on crazy plant lady, and guess what? I’m obsessed.

    From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent: My Origin Story

    It all started with a sad-looking succulent named Steve. He was a clearance aisle rescue, a last-ditch effort to prove I wasn’t a complete botanical assassin. To my surprise, Steve thrived. He plumped up, he grew new little succulent babies, he even seemed to… smile? Okay, I might be projecting, but the point is, I kept Steve alive!

    That’s when the floodgates opened. Suddenly, my apartment looked like a greenhouse exploded. Ferns, cacti, even a finicky fiddle-leaf fig (who I lovingly named Fiona and consult with daily) took up residence in my humble abode. And you know what? I kind of love it.

    Plant Parenthood

    Now, you might be thinking, “But I can barely keep a goldfish alive, let alone a plant!” Trust me, I get it. But here’s the thing – plant parenting is more than just keeping something green alive. It’s about so much more:

    1. Stress Relief and Mindfulness

    Remember those adult coloring books everyone was obsessed with? Think of plants as the ultimate coloring book, but instead of markers, you use water and sunshine. Caring for plants is surprisingly therapeutic. The act of watering, repotting, and even just observing their growth is incredibly grounding. It’s like meditation, but with more chlorophyll.

    2. Insta-Worthy Décor (That Cleans Your Air!)

    Let’s be honest, plants are basically living, breathing home décor. They add life, texture, and a pop of color to any space. Plus, they’re like the ultimate air purifiers! Talk about form and function. Now, if only they could do laundry…

  • 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 Little Green Guru

    Let’s be honest, my thumbs have never exactly been green. In fact, I’m pretty sure my touch is lethal to anything resembling flora. So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a houseplant – a cute little succulent named Stan (yes, I name my plants, don’t judge) – I was convinced it was living on borrowed time.

    To my surprise, Stan thrived! Not only did he survive my questionable care, but he flourished. And as I watched him grow, I realized this little plant was teaching me some big life lessons. Who knew a succulent could be such a wise sage?

    Houseplant

    Life, like my watering schedule, can be unpredictable. Just when Stan seemed settled and happy, I’d inevitably forget to water him for a week (or two… okay, maybe three). He’d start to droop, his vibrant green fading to a pale, almost translucent yellow. I’d panic, convinced I’d finally pushed him past the point of no return.

    But then, I’d remember he’s a succulent, practically designed to withstand droughts. A good soak and a little extra sunshine later, Stan would be back to his old self, standing tall and proud. It was a powerful reminder that even when life throws curveballs, a little resilience goes a long way.

    Learning Patience from a Plant: Slow and Steady Growth

    We live in a world of instant gratification. Want to watch a movie? Streaming services. Need groceries? Delivery apps. But Stan, in his quiet, unassuming way, taught me the value of patience. He didn’t sprout new leaves overnight. His growth was slow, almost imperceptible at times. But with each passing week, I’d notice subtle changes – a new shoot here, a slightly taller stem there.

    It was a gentle reminder that good things take time. Whether it’s achieving a personal goal or nurturing a relationship, patience is key. Just like Stan’s steady growth, the most meaningful changes often happen gradually, quietly unfolding over time.

  • Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join the Club)

    Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join the Club)

    Let’s be honest, I used to be a plant assassin. Seriously, I could kill a cactus in a desert. I’d overwater, underwater, forget to water entirely – you name it, my poor plants suffered through it. So, naturally, when everyone and their sourdough starter became obsessed with houseplants during that time, I remained skeptical. “Plants are just decorative dust collectors,” I’d declare, secretly mourning the ghosts of ferns past.

    But then, something magical happened. My partner, bless their heart, gifted me a resilient little ZZ plant for my birthday. Figuring I had nothing to lose (except another plant, potentially), I decided to give it a go. And guess what? Not only did it survive, it thrived. That’s when I realized: maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t doomed to a life of plant homicide after all. Maybe, with a little effort, even *I* could experience the joys of plant parenthood.

    From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent

    Fast forward to today, and my once barren apartment is now a veritable jungle. (Okay, maybe a slight exaggeration, but I do have more plants than shoes now, which is saying something). And you know what? It’s amazing!

    The Unexpected Benefits of Being a Plant Parent

    Here’s why you should join the plant parent club:

    1. Plants Make the Best Roommates

    Seriously, have you ever met a plant that complains about the dishes or hogs the bathroom? They’re quiet, they don’t steal your food, and they’re always down to listen (or at least, they look like they are). Plants provide a sense of calm and tranquility that even the most zen meditation app can’t replicate. Plus, they’re way less demanding than pets. No early morning walks or litter boxes to deal with, just the occasional watering and a bit of sunshine.

    2. Plants are Natural Stress Relievers

    Okay, maybe not actually therapists (though wouldn’t that be cool?). But tending to plants has this incredible way of melting away stress. There’s something incredibly therapeutic about digging in the soil, pruning leaves, and watching something you nurtured flourish. It’s a tangible reminder that growth and progress take time, and that even small acts of care can make a big difference. Plus, that fresh, earthy smell? Instant mood booster.

    More Than Just Pretty Faces: The Hidden Talents of Houseplants

    As if being low-maintenance roommates and stress-busters wasn’t enough, plants also come with a whole host of hidden talents:

    • Natural Air Purifiers: Say goodbye to stale air and hello to a breath of fresh oxygen. Plants are natural air purifiers, filtering out toxins and releasing fresh oxygen into your home.
    • Humidity Heroes: Dry air got you feeling like a dried-up houseplant yourself? Certain plants, like peace lilies and spider plants, release moisture into the air, acting as natural humidifiers.
    • Productivity Boosters: Studies have shown that being around plants can actually boost concentration and creativity. So, if you’re looking for a way to liven up your workspace, a plant might be just the ticket.

    Ready to Become a Plant Parent?

    So, there you have it – the unexpected joys of being a plant parent. From stress relief to air purification, plants offer a world of benefits, even for those of us who thought we were destined for horticultural failure. So, tell me, what are you waiting for? Grab yourself a leafy friend and join the club – your mental health (and your home décor) will thank you!

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

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



    We’ve all been there. You’re sprawled on the couch, three episodes deep into a reality TV marathon you swore you’d never watch, and you catch a glimpse of your houseplant. It’s just sitting there, silently existing, yet you can’t shake the feeling that it’s… judging you.

    Okay, maybe not literally judging. But lately, my leafy roommate and I have developed a complex relationship that can only be described as one of mutual side-eye.

    The Dating App Debacle: When My Plant Staged an Intervention

    It all started with a particularly egregious dating app decision. I was about to message someone who’s profile picture featured them holding a fish (red flag, I know) when I noticed my peace lily, Beatrice, looking particularly droopy. Now, I’m no botanist, but even I could tell this went beyond needing a splash of water.

  • 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 Green Guru (in a Terracotta Pot)

    Let’s be honest, I’m about as far from a “green thumb” as you can get. My idea of plant care used to involve a hopeful splash of water every other week and a silent apology when things inevitably went south. So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a majestic (and slightly intimidating) fiddle leaf fig, I knew I was in for a wild ride.

    Little did I know, this leafy friend would become my unlikely life coach. Who knew so much wisdom could sprout from a terracotta pot?

    Plant Parents

    Fiddle leaf figs are notorious drama queens. One minute their leaves are perky and reaching for the sun, the next they’re drooping like a teenager who just got grounded. My initial reaction to every wilted leaf was panic. I’d frantically Google solutions, convinced I was on the verge of plant homicide.

    But over time, I learned that sometimes, you just have to wait it out. Just like in life, not every problem has an immediate solution. Sometimes, the best course of action is patience, consistency, and a little bit of faith (and maybe a gentle misting).

    Lesson #2: Embrace Your Inner Weirdness (Your Plants Do)

    My fiddle leaf fig, much like yours truly, is a creature of habit. It likes its sunlight filtered, its humidity high, and its pot turned precisely 45 degrees every other Tuesday. Okay, maybe not that last part, but you get the idea.

    The point is, my plant taught me that it’s okay to have quirks and preferences. In a world that often pressures us to conform, there’s something liberating about embracing what makes you unique, even if it means your plant gets its own humidifier.

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

    My Journey From Plant Killer to Reluctant Plant Parent

    Let’s be honest, my history with plants was less than stellar. I was practically a plant grim reaper. I overwatered, underwatered, and generally neglected anything green and leafy that dared to cross my threshold.

    plant, I scoffed. “Yeah, right,” I thought, “This one won’t stand a chance.” Little did I know, this plant was about to school me in the art of, well, life.

    Lesson #1: The Power of Less is More

    My first instinct with any plant was to drown it with affection, disguised as excessive watering. I treated my ZZ plant like a long-lost friend returning from the desert. Big mistake. The poor thing started to wilt even further. Panicked, I turned to the internet, the all-knowing guru of, well, everything.

    Turns out, ZZ plants are practically succulents. They store water in their bulbous roots and are perfectly content with a good soak every few weeks. Who knew? I learned that sometimes, the best approach is a hands-off one. Stepping back and giving space, whether it’s to a plant or a person, can be the most nurturing thing you can do.

    Lesson #2: Finding Growth in Unexpected Places

    Confession time: I don’t have a green thumb. I have a “let’s-put-it-in-the-corner-and-hope-for-the-best” thumb. My apartment isn’t exactly bathed in sunlight. So, I relegated the ZZ plant to a dimly lit corner, figuring it would meet the same fate as its predecessors. Imagine my surprise when, months later, the little guy was not only alive but thriving! It had even sprouted a new shoot.

  • Is My Houseplant Judging Me? A Deep Dive into the Mind of My Monstera

    Is My Houseplant Judging Me? A Deep Dive into the Mind of My Monstera

    Is My Houseplant Judging Me? A Deep Dive into My Monstera‘s Mind

    The Day My Monstera Raised an Eyebrow

    Let’s be honest, plant parents. We’ve all been there. That moment when you lock eyes with your leafy companion and swear you see a flicker of judgment in their… well, lack of eyes. It happened to me last Tuesday. I was sprawled on the couch, shamelessly devouring a bag of chips, reruns of a reality TV show I’m too embarrassed to name playing on the screen. As I reached for another chip, my hand brushed against my majestic Monstera Deliciosa, Phil.

    And that’s when it happened. One of Phil‘s giant, perforated leaves tilted. Ever so slightly. Like a judgmental eyebrow raised in a silent, “Seriously?”

    Phil‘s silent scrutiny, and frankly, it’s making me re-evaluate my life choices.

    Exhibit A: The Case of the Unwatered Succulent

    Remember Gary, the succulent I adopted with promises of a bright future and well-drained soil? Yeah, about that. Gary didn’t fare so well. Apparently, “low-maintenance” doesn’t mean “no-maintenance” (who knew?). One overwatering incident (or three) later, Gary went to the great plant shop in the sky. And you know who witnessed the whole sorry saga? Phil. He sat there, silently observing as I over-compensated with affection, then ultimately, failed Gary.

    I swear, I saw a new leaf unfurl the day after Gary went to succulent heaven. Coincidence? I think not.

    Exhibit B: The Great Unwashed Dishes Debacle

    We all have those days. The ones where even the thought of putting on pants feels like a monumental task, let alone tackling the Mount Everest of dirty dishes piled precariously beside the sink. One such day, I was feeling particularly unmotivated. I shuffled past Phil, takeout container in hand, and swore I heard a rustle of disapproval. Okay, maybe it was just the air conditioning vent, but still. The timing was uncanny.

  • The Surprisingly Deep Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant

    The Surprisingly Deep Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant




    My Thumb Was Anything But Green

    Let’s be honest, I’m not exactly known for my nurturing instincts. My idea of “keeping things alive” mostly involved remembering to water my cactus once a month (and sometimes even that felt ambitious). So, when my well-intentioned friend gifted me a vibrant, leafy peace lily for my birthday, I accepted it with a mix of cautious optimism and impending doom.

    “It’s low-maintenance,” my friend assured me, “Just needs a little water and sunlight.” Little did I know, this seemingly simple plant would soon become my unlikely life coach, teaching me valuable lessons about patience, resilience, and the interconnectedness of all living things.

    peace lily started strong. It stood tall and proud, its leaves a vibrant green. But after a few weeks, things took a turn. The leaves began to droop, losing their luster. Panic set in. Was I overwatering? Underwatering? Had I somehow exposed it to the toxic fumes of my burnt popcorn? (Hey, it happens to the best of us.)

    I did what any self-respecting millennial would do: I consulted the internet. After hours of scrolling through plant care forums and watching YouTube tutorials, I realized my mistake. I wasn’t giving my plant the specific care it needed. I was treating it like a cactus when it craved the attention of, well, a peace lily.

    Turns out, even “low-maintenance” creatures have their needs. I learned to pay attention to the subtle cues my plant was giving me: drooping leaves meant it was thirsty, yellowing leaves meant too much sun. Slowly but surely, with a little TLC (and a consistent watering schedule), my peace lily bounced back, more vibrant than ever.

    Life lesson learned: Just like plants, people have different needs and ways of communicating. Taking the time to understand and respond to those needs – whether it’s a thirsty plant or a friend who needs a listening ear – is crucial for growth and well-being.

    Lesson #2: Resilience and Staying Connected to Your Roots

    Life, as we all know, throws curveballs. Just when my peace lily and I had found our groove, disaster struck. I accidentally left it outside during a freak hailstorm. I returned to find my once-thriving plant battered, bruised, and looking utterly defeated.

    My heart sank. I was ready to toss it out, convinced I had finally managed to kill even the most resilient of plants. But then, something stopped me. As I examined the seemingly lifeless stems, I noticed a glimmer of green near the base. A tiny new leaf was emerging, determined to survive.

    I was amazed. Even after enduring the horticultural equivalent of a natural disaster, my plant refused to give up. It clung to its roots, drawing strength from within to rebuild and thrive once more.

  • 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 heard the saying, “Stop and smell the roses.” But what about, “Stop and appreciate the… uh… Philodendron?” Yeah, doesn’t quite have the same ring to it, does it? But hear me out, because this is a story about how a simple houseplant became my unlikely life coach.

    My Black Thumb and the Resilient ZZ Plant

    Now, I’m not exactly known for my green thumb. In fact, my wife jokes that I could kill a plastic plant. So, when she surprised me with a cheerful little ZZ plant for my birthday, I was secretly terrified. I envisioned a slow and painful demise, with me standing over its wilting leaves, whispering apologies.

    Zeke,” was a trooper. He tolerated my inconsistent watering schedule (sometimes I remembered, sometimes I didn’t) and my complete lack of plant expertise. He even seemed to thrive in the dimly lit corner where I’d relegated him, as if to say, “No worries, dude. I got this.”

    Bouncing Back: A Lesson in Resilience

    One particularly hectic week, I completely forgot about poor Zeke. I was buried in work deadlines, fueled by coffee and takeout, and my once-a-week watering schedule flew out the window. When I finally emerged from my work-induced haze, I found Zeke drooping like a sad, green accordion.

    “Oh no, Zeke! I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed, feeling like a terrible plant parent. I quickly gave him a good soak, hoping against hope that I hadn’t pushed him beyond the point of no return.

    To my utter astonishment, within a day or two, Zeke had perked right back up. His leaves, once limp and lifeless, were now standing tall and proud. He was a botanical phoenix, rising from the ashes of my neglect.

    That’s when it hit me: Zeke was giving me a masterclass in resilience. He was teaching me that even when life knocks you down, even when you feel like you’re wilting under pressure, you have the strength to bounce back. All it takes is a little care, a little time, and a whole lot of tenacity.

    Slow and Steady: Embracing the Pace of Growth

    As the weeks turned into months, I settled into a routine with Zeke. I watered him regularly (most of the time), dusted his leaves occasionally, and even invested in some plant food. I was determined to be a better plant parent, inspired by Zeke’s quiet determination.

    But Zeke, in his infinite wisdom, had another lesson in store for me. You see, Zeke wasn’t a particularly fast grower. He wasn’t like those show-off Monsteras you see all over Instagram, unfurling new leaves every other week. Zeke grew at his own pace, slowly but surely, proving that real growth isn’t always flashy or instantaneous.

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

    My Brown Thumb and the Fern That Changed Everything

    Let’s be honest, my thumbs have never been particularly gifted in the plant department. In fact, I’m pretty sure I could kill a cactus in a desert. So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a cheerful little potted fern, I accepted it with a mixture of delight and trepidation. Delight, because who doesn’t love a splash of green in their home? Trepidation, because, well… my track record.

    Plant Whispering (and Less is More)

    My first instinct was to shower my new leafy friend with attention. I watered it religiously, rotated it for optimal sunlight, and even serenaded it with my questionable rendition of “Here Comes the Sun” (don’t judge, the plant seemed to enjoy it… at first). However, my overzealous care resulted in a soggy, wilting mess. It turns out, even plants need their space.

    Just when I was about to accept defeat and invest in some high-quality plastic foliage, a seasoned plant parent (read: my neighbor with the magical green thumb) intervened. “You’re drowning the poor thing!” she exclaimed, gently taking the pot from my grasp. “Sometimes, less is more.” She proceeded to teach me the delicate art of plant whispering: observing, listening (metaphorically, of course), and responding to its needs rather than projecting my own insecurities onto it. Who knew?

    Lesson 2: Embracing the Pauses and Growth Spurts of Life

    With my newfound wisdom and a slightly less heavy hand, I nursed my fern back to health. It wasn’t always smooth sailing. There were periods of stagnation, where it seemed like my plant was frozen in time. Then, out of nowhere, a new frond would unfurl, reaching towards the sunlight with an almost comical enthusiasm.