Sometimes I kill things.
It never feels good and it’s not always on purpose (although sometimes it is: RIP, mysterious winged bug in my bedroom whose life I very deliberately ended).
Whether it’s an untenable relationship or an insect with bad timing, I recognize death is part of life. I might even need to help it along.
But I prefer new growth.
Meet Lilah
Lilah is an unruly French Lavender plant who has thrived beyond the odds in my kitchen window.
You wouldn’t know it to look at her now, but when she first came to live with me, her survival was in question.
Two of her three seedlings failed to thrive, and their dead leaves quickly littered the soil.
But somehow the third seedling picked up the slack, and soon Lilah had new stems and a lushness so abundant I had to restrain her exuberance—her waving fronds encroached on the stovetop and I had to tie them back.
And that’s how it’s been for a while, the thick green of Lilah bringing brightness to my kitchen. (Ahh, plants!)
Suddenly, Lilah grew
Last week out of nowhere she shot up a new stalk so implausibly tall I could barely fit it in the frame of a photo.
This was astonishing and curious, as well as slightly worrisome.
Lilah’s fresh stalk seems so spindly! What is she thinking, sticking her long neck out there like that? How will she be able to support the weight of what’s coming?
Then Lilah…blossomed?
Two mornings ago Lilah surprised me further: she blossomed!
Well, I think she blossomed.
I’m not sure if her tiny spherical spikes will become leaves or flowers or anything at all.
She’s grown plenty in the last few months, but this development is different. I could never have predicted it. I don’t know what will happen next.
I do know that this #thankyouthursday, I am grateful for new growth.
Love > fear,
