The spider plant monologue revisited

Remember the pledge?

I made a commitment three months ago to our office spider plant. For the first time, I allowed myself to become emotionally involved with a plant and to take on primary responsiblity for its care. That’s a lot for a professed brown thumb to take on!

I’ve always been to plants what Lucrezia Borgia was to her relatives. Yes, that poisonous! They’ve always been a complete mystery to me, just like babies. I water them; they die (oops, not the babies!). I water them less; they die. I water them more; same ol’ same ol’. Can you believe I actually spent a summer working in Home Depot’s Garden Center? Don’t even ask! Pure irony. Putting on the orange apron every morning was terrifying. I was a fraud, a joke. My cash register was the stocks and, man oh man, did my customers ever let the fruit fly!

All the panic and anxiety of that summer came rushing back as I turned my cart into Walmart’s Garden Centre last week. But there was no turning back. I was on a mission of love. After finally establishing a working watering routine (months of trial and error), my adopted charge had gone and outgrown its pot! It was also time for one of its babies to start on solid food. They grow up so fast lol. I found Walmart’s potting soil, and everything else I’d heard I might need for the task, and got out of there as quick as possible.

I couldn’t believe how nervous I was when it came time for the actual operation. My heart was racing as I gently knocked the plant loose of its old green plastic pot. I turned the ball of roots over in my hands, and ever so carefully…

…I screamed and threw my precious spider plant across the desk.

No one ever told me roots can look just like gross white maggot worms! When the dirt settled, so to speak, I finished the job. The smell of the potting soil, and the feel of it under my nails was a delicious novelty. After patting down the soil and blowing the dirt off the leaves, I felt a fierce and entirely unexpected sense of accomplishment. I’d seen the same emotion on my Home Depot customers’ faces a hundred times, but I’d never understood it. So this is why people spend their weekends on their knees in the dirt?

Yes. And I discovered something else. I never knew how much life energy is held in a plant. With both my hands in the dirt, all my senses were drinking in pure chlorophyll scented “life”. I felt powerful, generous, and connected – a thrilling combination. My original goal had been only to keep my spider plant alive, and even that was asking myself to do the unprecedented. I want to do so much more for it now. I want it to grow and thrive and be as brilliantly green as it can possibly be, and I want to line up its babies in a rainbow of bright tiny pots along my kitchen widow sill at home.

I took a risk three months ago. It was touch and go for a long time, but my spider plant is alive and (as you can see below) multiplying. I’ve let a part of my identity go, the running joke is over. And I’m more than ready to move on. Goal met: I, Cymbria, can take care of a plant.

So go ahead… set a goal. Just don’t be afraid to get your hands dirty ; )

We've come a long way baby!

We've come a long way baby!

(photo source: Cymbria (ps.check the view!)

4 Responses to The spider plant monologue revisited

  1. mountainink says:

    Stumbled onto your sight with this entry and quite enjoyed it. I used to be a firm believer that the following progression made sense: 1. take responsiblity for a plant 2. take on a dog or cat (depending on individual circumstances one is usually easier than the other) 3. take on a serious relationship 4. take on parenthood
    Having followed that order taking on a cat and a dog (no kids yet thought) and to this day still watching plants die, I’ve come to the conclusion the plants are tricky beings. The do not ask, beg, wine, or otherwise get your attention. It is up to your memory and know-how to figure out what they need when. Very tricky indeed. Best of luck – they look fabulous!

  2. Cymbria says:

    Thank you so much for your wonderful comment! I have some great news for you in return. I used to be a believer in the same progression. And I have to say it caused me a fair bit of stress, considering my homicides in the plant world, and the fact that I’m allergic to anything warm and cute with fur. Good news is that I’ve been married for five fun years. My warm cute husband has hair instead of fur, and is very good about whining and asking for anything he needs. Need another reason to move #3 up the list? Most significant others are perfectly capable of watering themselves when we’re out of town lol.

  3. Lauren Gallagher says:

    were does a spider pant come from

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