Last spring when we moved into a new apartment a friend of mine encouraged me to buy some plants. We had great light in our new space and she thought adding a little life could only help. I remained pretty firm that I kill most plants and was truly just focussing on keeping two little humans alive. That felt like enough responsibility.
Fast forward 7 months, this beautiful friend was still encouraging me to buy a plant. So one afternoon we took a ride to Mahoney’s since they were having a sale. I could always be persuaded by a sale. We walked through the greenhouse and I asked which plants I was likely not to kill, which ones didn’t need a lot of water incase I forgot, and which ones would be most resilient to the powers of my black thumb. My friend laughed at my seriousness about this situation. I then shared with her that I was once tasked with watering my grandparents plants while they were in Florida. I told her that only one plant survived. She thought that was great and it was evidence that I would be able to keep a plant alive. I then shared, yes, however, the plant that remained alive had in fact been a fake plant. I had watered a plastic shrub for 8 weeks!
We continued to walk around the greenhouse and I did begin to feel more inspired to give this plant mothering a go. I mean, I was able to keep two humans alive, I could certainly try a plant. Then it happened. We arrived at the citrus section! Well, if I was going to try to keep something alive, then it was going to be a tree! A lime tree to be exact. Yes, this was it! Brilliant. I decided I was going to grow an abundant number of limes and reap the rewards of this new adventure.
We packed up the tree, put it in the car, and drove off satisfied with my new purchase. Even in the car my friend said, “of course you didn't just buy a small plant, you just bought a tree”. This friend knows that when I commit to something I am all in! We laughed and ultimately knew this new lime tree was sure to be a metaphor for all the changes I had been making in my life.
Naturally, over the next few days and weeks I became worried about my lime tree. Her leaves began to fall off, her blossoms and buds started shedding, and little lime babes fell to the floor. Oh no, i’m killing her, I thought. I text my friend in a panic, because clearly she needed to be the lime tree yoda, that I was killing my tree. This dear friend explained the transition from the greenhouse, to the car, to her new home and that all plants have an adjustment period after a major transition. Ah, right, a major transition. Could the metaphor be any more literal?
I then began doing some light lime tree reading about watering, sunlight, and general care. Was I over watering the tree? My daughters have also taken a liking to the tree. The first thing they do when they wake is ask to water the tree…of course we were over watering her. I also began to read about how a trees roots can become suffocated and they need venting! Ah, her roots had become suffocated. We needed venting!
One day I was sitting beneath Valencia, as she has grown about 6 inches since we purchased her, and I realized that she is doing just fine. I was sitting with her energy, giving her a little reiki, and laughing. I had been taking far better care of this tree and giving her more water and nourishment than I had been giving myself.
So far I have learned a lot since becoming the mother of a lime tree. Learning that it takes time to transition to a new space, all things need time to acclimate. We need lots of water and love. We are not short on love for Valencia in this house. All things shed parts of themselves that no longer serve them, just as Valencia had shed some of her blossoms and buds that were not meant to grow fully into limes. And ultimately, we cannot thrive if we feel our roots are being suffocated.
Drink water.
Give yourself space and time to shed what no longer serves you.
Vent your roots once in a while so they don’t become suffocated.
All transitions require a bit of patience and grace.
Let’s rise,