Saturday, October 20, 2018

Some Plants (and People) Do Quite Well When Left Alone


Leave It Alone!
Keikis are clones of orchid plants.
Put that person, place, or thing aside, leave it alone, and it might turn into something of beauty all on its own.

A mini-me growing from your arm or leg is not possible in the human world (yet), but mini-me growth often happens in the orchid world. Orchid growers know about the keiki (kee-kee), which is a clone—an additional plant that grows on a Dendrobium orchid cane or a flowering stem of a Phalaenopsis and some other orchids. I’m not an orchid expert, so I don’t know exactly why this happens. In my limited experience, it’s often another chance at life for a neglected, soon-to-die mother plant.
I overheard an accomplished grower say he places keikis in a basket until they mature enough to pot or mount. Because he’s a pro, he probably has separate baskets and his keikis have name tags, so he knows what they are. My method involves tossing random Dendrobium keikis into a plastic basket and abandoning them for a year—or longer.
Leaving things alone to thrive (or not) in their own way is not my MO. I named myself Interfering Mom years ago because I pick, I advise, I threaten, I beg. I offer the most helpful suggestions, but most of the people I am certain would benefit most from my advice ignore me. I know about being ignored, but not so much about ignoring.
However, I ignored a lot the last several months. I stayed inside because of the brutal heat and my flower and herb gardens are an overgrown, weedy mass of plants. I also wrestled with some physical limitations since late May, which presented even more opportunities to ignore growing as well as non-growing things. During that time, I focused only on what was important—working, eating, sleeping, meditating. I left most other things alone.
Now that the daily heat blasts of the Florida summer and my physical limitations have started to diminish, I find myself outside again, poking through the overgrown weeds and dehydrated potted plants, looking for what living things, like me, made it through another summer. I neglected (ignored) so much over the previous six months that I had to reorder my patio and its nearly ninety potted plants. I moved some plants, and behind a shelf I spied my hanging basket of abandoned keikis. I was stunned to see that many no longer were keikis—some were plants and one had a bloom spike. I stopped ignoring the basket and a few days later, the plant had bright, beautiful blooms.
Surprise gift of Dendrobium blossoms
I don’t recommend neglect, even though I know some plants (and people) do better when they are left alone to grow on their own. More than a few plants didn’t make it during those neglectful months (but all the people who rejected my interfering have done just fine). I have fewer plants than I did at the beginning of spring. But much of what I have has thrived in spite of me. It’s a good lesson when I see these blooms to remind myself that I don’t always have to preen, pull, pamper, and push—in the human world as well as the plant world. Sometimes, when I leave things alone, they grow and blossom and turn into something of beauty all on their own.
* * * * *
Leave it alone does not work with many things in our lives, of course. It is not a great idea to leave our electric bill or mortgage payment alone, for example. Choose wisely when deciding when to “interfere” and when to “leave it alone.”

Tuesday, July 24, 2018

Sarcasm and Scorn Take Time I Don't Have


Do You Have That Kind of Time?

“Annie, you don’t have that kind of time.”
~ Anne Lamott’s best friend, Pammy

“Chris, you don’t have that kind of time.” I say it to myself often these days. I say it when I’m a nanosecond away from an angry retort. I say it when I’m a nanosecond away from a comment. I say it in my head when I think about just how I will strike back, strike out.
“Chris, you don’t have that kind of time” stops me in my tracks as I veer toward the lowest of the low roads. I aspire to reach the high road. But I find I’m stuck somewhere just above the low road, and I’m not having much success at ascending to even the middle road.
I’m fortunate that the majority of the time I drive the low road only in my brain. I don’t take that road on a public or personal journey (most of the time). However, knowing that I far too often consider dropping down to the lowest of low roads brings me up short. The words I say and (even rehearse) in my mind, and my devious plans to speak them with a plain, bold tone of sarcasm and scorn remain unspoken for the most part. But I don’t like even thinking them.
A soft answer and a movement toward the high road often turn away wrath, but that becomes less and less the case in our say-it-all society. So I ask myself what kind of time I have. I remind myself that refusing to answer ends a conversation that isn’t worth having. If there is no path toward a higher road, then it’s best to save my energy, my psyche, and my voice. I know the time will come when a soft voice matters and when ears are primed to listen with enough attention to hear it. At that time, I can move toward that higher road.
For now, when I feel my gorge rise and my heart race, I know my words and ideas will be met with the sarcasm and scorn I want to avoid sharing myself. So I banish my impulse to speak and close my heart and mouth to words of sarcasm and scorn. I continue to remind myself: “Chris, you don’t have that kind of time.”






Monday, July 23, 2018

Mind Less Monday: Compost, Clutter, and Clearing


Mind Less Monday
An Effort to Not Be Mind Full or Even Mindful
Compost, Clutter, and Clearing
 
Mind less. I don’t want to be mindful all the time or even most of the time. It’s a worthy endeavor, but my mind is already full most days. If I give carefulthat is, mindfulattention to everything, I foresee serious brain overload. To avoid such an experience, and for a different take on all things Zen, I will have Mind Less Mondays.

Monday, July 23, 2018, greets me with a mind full of deadlines, distractions, and dishes. It will be a challenge to mind less today, but I shall try.
I will mind less that my e-mail inbox overflows with projects and deadlines to meet. Rather, I choose to be grateful I’m busy and well-employed.
I will mind less the mess that beckons me in a siren’s voice to clean, declutter, and clear. Instead, I will look past the disarray I spy during these morning hours. I will not give in to the distraction of busy-ness that often equals few important accomplishments.
I will mind less the dog hair and general chaos that mean we have a dog. Instead, I will be grateful for his company, his delight when I share my food, and his protective nature that means I have few fears while he guards my home.
I will mind less the overflowing compost container that I must schlepp to the pile this morning. Peach pits, avocado pits, banana peels, and vegetable scraps mean I’m eating well.
I will mind less the weeds that threaten to overwhelm my flowerbeds and herb gardens. The rain and sun that spurred their growth mean the flowers and herbs also are thriving.

Mind Less Monday reminds me to focus on what is important to bring to mind and what I should mind less, much less.