Purging and Peace

I got to a point where I owned every plant I’d ever wanted. Albos, Anthuriums, you name it, I had it. It wasn’t as joy-filled as I would have imagined. In fact, it was my literal nightmare.

I walked into my home and looked around at all of the lush greenery. I had done it, I had completed my wishlist and then some. I felt on top of the world, like no one could touch me and my collection. I had done what I’d seen done on Instagram countless times and I had turned my home into the oasis I’d always dreamed of….

I hated it. I hated the constant yellowing leaves from my velvets who lacked enough humidity, I was failing them. I hated the pests that ran rampant from one baby to the next, a trail of destruction. I hated watering, I hated pruning, I hated any and all plant care until finally I hated my plants, themselves. It had become too much, I’d grown too fast too quickly. I didn’t consider what would thrive in my space, if it gave me heart eyes it was coming home.

Panic began to set in. I’d get out of bed, sleepless in Portland, and walk around downstairs looking at my plants. Why didn’t I love them, anymore? Why were they making me feel like a failure? Because I’d gotten too big for my britches and I couldn’t care for them all at the level they needed.

I work full time at a construction company. My alarm is set for 4:45, but I’m always up before then wandering around, looking at the plants, starting my day off with them. I barely have the time to care for myself, most days, yet I’d brought in the neediest roommates on the planet: plants. My constant exhaustion led to further neglect of the plants, and the decline was rapid.

I cried, I lamented my losses, I worried who was next. Had I wasted all of my money?

I began to purge, slowly but surely, the plants that didn’t bring me joy and the plants that couldn’t survive in my conditions. I would move one or two plants from their places on the shelves to the dining room table, the waiting area. I needed a moment to get over the shock of my baby in it’s normal spot. I needed time to get used to empty shelf space. My plants began to find new homes with people who were more excited than I was to have even seen one in person, let alone own one. I began to get joy out of seeing the happiness that my babies were bringing to others who would treat them better than I had. I began to feel alive again, and connected to my remaining plants.

I did the purge slowly, because it is fun to sell plants. It is fun to meet new people and make their day. It can be too much fun. I didn’t want to make the same mistakes I’d made in the past and purge in one fell swoop, I wanted to take my time and decide who really didn’t belong here, even if I loved them still. I began doing trades towards the end, when I’d parted with enough plants that I had gaping holes in my collection.

My collection is smaller but still very much complete. My collection is smaller, but brings me more joy than it ever has because they’re all things I truly love and want to have here. My maintenance time has been cut in half, my watering time has been cut in half, my stress level has been cut in half. I can’t explain this new feeling in my chest when I walk in the door, but it’s a good feeling. I feel proud, yet humbled in the face of my plants. I have gained a healthy fear and respect of them, knowing they can turn at any moment.

I never again will fill my house to fill the void. I never again will be selfish when it comes to a plant’s wellbeing. I never again will so overwhelm myself with the plants I think I need instead of being excited over the ones I have.

I appreciate what I have, now, for the beautiful collection that it is. It’s not as big as some of my idols’ but that’s okay! Collecting plants is not a competition, and in my eyes, I’m winning, anyway!