So this morning, I was watering my plants. (Big excitement for New Years Day, eh?).
I’m righteously proud of them.
One of them is an arrowhead vine that was my mother’s – it started life in a terrarium, and, many decades later, is still gracing my kitchen.
In addition to that beauty, I also have two philodendrons, a snake plant, a schefflera, an asparagus fern, a red geranium and a pothus.
Over the years, between my judicious pruning and the benefit of a southern exposure, they’ve thrived. Until now. All of my babies have outgrown their pots.
They’re cramped. Some leaves are drooping (much like mine – but let’s not go there, shall we?)
They’re letting me know in plant talk that they’re uncomfortable.
So, it’s soon going to be time to move my crew into more spacious quarters before they become rootbound and wither away.
My foliage predicament reminded me of the lobster story I saw in a video not too long ago.
Lobsters have a wonderful exoskeleton, their shell protects them from harm, from predators, and generally allows them to cruise the ocean like badasses.
But, it seems that lobsters cannot grow any larger than their shells allow them to. There comes a time (many times actually) in a lobster’s life, when the very shell that has served as their barrier to harm, now constricts the very growth they need.
They become uncomfortable. That’s their “clue” that it’s time to change.
So, they seek the protection of a rocky outcrop and unceremoniously shed their shell. (Or maybe they do an intricate shell-shedding dance. I don’t know, people – I’m just offering a summary of events here).
This shell-less period lasts for who knows how long, but they eventually emerge from their hiding place bigger, stronger and once again celebrating their badassed-ness in their underwater world.
And the parallels to my own life are not going unnoticed.
Lately, I’m feeling cramped.
I’ve been pruned (ever so apparent once stepping out of a bubble bath – but let’s not go there either, shall we?), I’ve been restricted, and it might be time for some shell shedding here.
Perhaps it’s time for me to locate a rocky outcrop, or just be replanted somewhere more spacious.
To paraphrase an oft repeated saying – there are three types of people – those who seek change, those who have change forced upon them and those who sit in the corner wondering what the heck just happened.
Either way, I sense some big changes coming in this new year.