Making Time For Less

In which I killed one of my house plants and learned less is more. 

Earlier this week, The Librarian mentioned that the coffee plant might be dead and when I checked on the plant, a plant I called “Pam,” it had indeed gone to the great garden in the sky. Killing plants is not a new phenomenon in this household but this time felt different. This was a plant that I was originally so careful with and even provided it with filtered water because a plant connoisseur recommended that practice. This plant that I’ve nurtured and cared for died because I did not have time for it. While I rushed around to assess the status of my other plants, I thought about the how and why this plant was neglected. 

A few years ago, I was all “I’m going to be a plant mama!” and spent a lot of money and energy acquiring plants. In the beginning I was running on vibes and would get and kill these plants within weeks. After realizing it’s not sustainable to keep buying plants and killing them, I made time to actually read those library books I’d borrowed and read the web sites I bookmarked so that I may properly care for my plants. My plants were thriving too; after the initial learning curve, I was able to care for them and the many hours that it would take to care for these plants became smaller chunks of time and I got so much pleasure out of these beauties. Regular upkeep; a schedule for watering, singing to them as I plucked dead leaves or rotated their pots and whatever general upkeep was needed kept them healthy and vibrant. When I had my surgery in October, I was cautioned not to interact with live plants but I still kept some kind of schedule but then it was fall and I was trying to figure out this new normal but plants hibernate a bit during those colder months, right?

Wrong.

My poor plants, especially Pam, looked worse for wear. Yes, I had surgery and restrictions and distractions, but as I cleaned up the house of horrors of dead leaves and scraggly plants, I asked myself WHY I had allowed my plants to become so neglected and the answer came to me while I was digging through the pile of clothes on my chair to get dressed. 

You probably have your own version of THE CHAIR. For me, it houses all of the clothes that I washed and folded but didn’t put away because my drawers are too full. The outfit that worked in my head but just missed the mark when I tried it on. The not quite dirty but needs to air out pieces of clothes that I *should* hang up but…you know. One shirt, outfit turns into two, three, ten things and suddenly a five-minute fix becomes a full-on situation.

These “situations”, always a theme for me, lately have been interfering with the good stuff and becoming a bit of a drag. It takes what feels like half a day to organize my closet because instead of one outfit to be rehung, there are a week’s worth of things that I have to address (in addition to a pile of folded clothes and a pile of shoes). Instead of reading the assigned books for school or book club (and this is a book that *I* chose!) over the course of a week, I have to rush to read hours before the meetup and I miss the joy of savoring the story. There is the phone call I put off, the yarn not knitted, the workout not done, the other things that seem impossible all in the name of “no time!” and it feels overwhelming, but it doesn’t have to be. Instead of more, go for less.

My poor dead plant inspired me to practice less is more. I wished for and collected so many things that I have not stopped to appreciate those things that I wish and hope for. Instead, I am chasing the next big shiny think and frustrated at all of the things. This month I made a decision to use what I have and to appreciate what I have instead of getting more and more.

My first test will be THE CHAIR. It’s a mess! I admit that I even added a thing to the chair before I started typing this post. I was gifted some clothes that I need to make a decision about, some race tees that I need to make a decision about and shoes that I *know* I am never going to wear again. 

I know one month won’t change a lifetime of foolishness, but I am hopeful that I will have a proper place to sit in my room, my clothes treated well and the time to savor more with less.