Just Relaxed Blog

Tag: personal growth

  • 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.

  • 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




    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant

    My Little Green Guru

    Let’s be honest, I’m about as far from a “plant person” as you can get. I’m more likely to forget to water myself, let alone a leafy friend. So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a peace lily for my birthday, I accepted it with a smile and a healthy dose of internal panic. “Don’t worry,” she chirped, “It’s super low-maintenance!” Famous last words.

    Little did I know, this “low-maintenance” lily would become my unlikely life coach, dispensing wisdom with every wilting leaf and surprising growth spurt.

    Percy the Peace Lily (yes, I named it) were a masterclass in overcompensation. I watered it constantly, convinced that every drooping leaf signaled imminent demise. I even downloaded a plant app that bombarded me with reminders and conflicting advice. Unsurprisingly, Percy did not thrive. In fact, it started to resemble a sad, soggy salad.

    Then, in a moment of exhausted resignation, I decided to leave Percy alone for a while. Maybe, just maybe, it didn’t need my constant attention. And guess what? Absence really did make the heart grow fonder…or at least, it made Percy perk up. Turns out, sometimes the best thing we can do for ourselves (and our houseplants) is to take a step back and let things be.

    Lesson #2: Embracing the Non-Linear Journey of Growth

    Once I mastered the delicate art of not drowning Percy, I expected a constant upward trajectory of leafy abundance. But life, like a houseplant, rarely cooperates with our idealized visions. There were periods of rapid growth, where new leaves unfurled with joyful abandon. But there were also lulls, times when Percy seemed content to simply exist, seemingly stuck in a green rut.

    Sound familiar? We all have those moments when we feel stagnant, like we’re not making progress. But Percy reminded me that growth isn’t always visible. Sometimes, it’s happening beneath the surface, in the strengthening of roots and the gathering of energy for the next big push. And those periods of stillness? They’re not failures, they’re simply part of the natural rhythm of growth.

  • 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 social media, bombarded by images of perfect homes, perfect relationships, and yes, even perfect plants. Lush, vibrant, practically glowing with health, these verdant wonders seem to effortlessly elevate everyone else’s living spaces. Meanwhile, back in my world… well, let’s just say my thumbs have always leaned more towards “brown” than “green.”

    My Brown Thumb Redemption Story (Or So I Thought)

    Determined to break free from my plant-killing reputation, I marched into the local nursery with the confidence of a horticultural hero. I carefully selected a seemingly low-maintenance ZZ plant, its sturdy leaves radiating an aura of resilience. “This is it,” I declared to my skeptical cat, “This time, things will be different!”

    Armed with newfound knowledge gleaned from countless YouTube tutorials and online forums, I diligently followed every care instruction. I watered on schedule (or at least what I convinced myself was the schedule), found the perfect balance of sunlight and shade, and even invested in a special plant mister for an added touch of humidity. My ZZ plant, which I affectionately named Zephyr, seemed to be thriving. “See!” I announced to anyone within earshot, “I told you I could do it!”

    Plant Care

    My newfound confidence, however, proved to be my downfall. Fueled by what can only be described as plant-parent pride, I began to overwater Zephyr. I’d see a slightly droopy leaf and panic, unleashing a deluge that would make a rainforest blush. My once-thriving ZZ plant started to look, well, less than thrilled.

    It was then that I stumbled upon a forum post titled “Help! I think I’m drowning my ZZ plant!” (The internet truly understands my pain). It turns out, these hardy plants are practically succulents in disguise, perfectly content with infrequent watering. Who knew?

    This experience taught me a valuable lesson that extends far beyond the realm of houseplants: sometimes, the best approach is a gentle touch. Whether it’s overthinking a situation, micromanaging a project, or showering someone with excessive attention, our good intentions can sometimes do more harm than good. Just like Zephyr, sometimes what we really need is space to breathe and thrive on our own terms.

    Lesson #2: Embracing Resilience: Finding Strength in Unexpected Places

    Thankfully, ZZ plants are incredibly resilient. Despite my best (or worst?) efforts, Zephyr managed to survive my overzealous watering. In fact, after a period of neglect (read: remembering to water only when the soil was bone dry), it bounced back with a vengeance, even sprouting new growth.