Couple of days ago, in my quest for the perfect birthday gift for my friend, I found myself standing invitingly close to a home depot type furniture and repair store that just so happens to host an impressive plant collection. My search for a cute mug having come up completely fruitless, I decided I deserved the treat and took myself out to gawk at the gardening section.
No intention. Just browsing.
Nah, to be fair, I had my eye on several beautiful pots already until I stumbled on a big cardboard box with teenie-tiny plastic pots inside. Baby plants. My eyes went all plate-size. A world of possibility had opened before me. I could get one gorgeous plant already grown for about $10 (I was trying to be good and not spend more) or I could get four baby plants at roughly $2.5 each.
The choice was obvious.
Did I want something that I could just drop in my space to give it the lush green I was needing? Sure, maybe. That was an option. But at the end of the day, I'm a sucker for a good deal. There's a special delight in watching things grow. I have several rescued or baby plants around my flat, growing in pots of various sizes and it's such a joy.
That's what some people seem to miss about plants - you just need a seed. A sprung seed (is that the term in English?) and you've got all you need for a big beautiful, luscious house plant. You don't need to skip to the finish line and pay triple for the big 'un.
I mean, you can, but you already know I took home the four baby plants (and a nice new pot to help me carry all those tiny little pots. It had started raining just as I was stepping out of the store, so I got some free irrigation going already, not to mention something to do with my afternoon.
I like getting dirt under my fingernails. I like the feel of wet soil on my fingers. The earthiness of life. The need to get dirty in order to grow. It's something that resonated with me. And the tiny pots they were originally sold in felt like they were boxing in my own sweet soul, so the first thing I did was gather up all the potting soil I had lying around and scout some larger pots. You can't pot a baby plant in something too big at once, else it dies. It's annoying, especially if you're impatient or hate a mess because you gotta keep scaling it up gradually. Every six months. Year. It depends.You gotta give your plant just enough room to grow, but not so much that it starts drowning in spaciousness.
It's kinda like your soul.
I took care to water the soil as I was layering it. You can't plant shit in dried-dust soil.
I won't say it got me fully outta my head, because it didn't. But it redirected my need for purpose from inward to outward. Suddenly, my purpose was very tangible. It got under my nails and had to be cleaned off the kitchen floor. Purpose needs to be tangible sometimes to be achieved.
Voila. Look at my beautiful new line-up. Alas, my flat is facing one of those wonky directions which means it doesn't get too much sun, so growing plants indoors is less than ideal. Still, I was desperate to bring in some green (and some new oxygen) in my bedroom, and I've got high hopes for my repotted babies.
I kept only three, as you can tell. The fourth, I repotted and carried as a gift to my 
