Making Meaning: Consistent Care: The Story of My Christmas Cactus
I often find myself writing short reflections on social media, as I continuously seek to make meaning of the every day. After I write them, I continue to reflect, listen to the thoughts of others, and let my thinking grow and evolve even more. And now, I’m going to work on bringing them into this space more permanently. WIth that, this reflection might look familiar - but if you’ve read it already, you’ll find a few new words and thoughts within.
My Christmas Cactus bloomed last month. It was BIG. Like, grinning ear to ear because I couldn’t believe it, big.
Now, you may read this, and think: this is NOT big. But, you need to understand this.
I grew this plant from one teeny tiny leaf, which I was gifted from my mom well over a decade ago. I started caring for it in my little New York City apartment, and watched it double in size, over and over again. I loved watching it grow, and couldn’t believe how fast it did in that first year.
But then, life seemed to move faster. I often left it unwatered for longer than I should have. I would head out on my next trip, my next dinner out, and so on. I went about my life, and simply, forgot.
But when I remembered, I took great care in quenching its thirst, making sure it had what it needed to grow. I would move it a few inches to one side, making sure it had the most sunlight possible. A few months later, I’d move it again. And later, yet again, I’d forget.
It never bloomed.
Year, after year, after year. No flowers.
Now, it stayed alive. It would occasionally grow a few new leaves. I even had to repot it once or twice, as it got noticeably larger. Plus, anytime I watered it, I noticed that it looked stronger, and more sure of itself.
It moved with me to the suburbs of Connecticut and watched me as I grew life and forgot about it even more often. The plant moved with us again, and we welcomed another into the world. It continued to survive, but still no blooms.
Last year, I vowed to tend to its care. I moved it to a bigger pot. I put it next to my sink, a place I find myself at far too many times each day. I watered it every Tuesday, never missing a week. I nurtured it, with consistency and hope.
And then, finally. A single, beautiful, pink flower.
We must tend to ourselves, and we must do so with consistency and hope. If we care for ourselves occasionally and sporadically, we may still grow and we’ll likely stay alive - but we will never fulfill our beautiful potential. When we outgrow our current container, we must move ourselves into something better. We must create conditions for ourselves that allow us to THRIVE. Each and every one of us deserves to blossom, no matter how long it takes.
Thank you, dear plant. I promise to continue to care for you, and see how you grow and blossom even more. And dear self. Don’t forget.
