You are so on point with all of this. Maybe I never got sucked into self help because my parents were neither the type. Whatever the reason I am grateful to be able to see it and remind others that they are beautiful just as they are. Period.
Thank you Alex for such an uplifting, happy read this morning.
“Uplifting, happy read this morning” is the sweetest compliment, and I’m taking it like a warm mug in both hands. I wrote this with a little smile on my face, so knowing it landed that way for you makes me feel less alone in my own little plant aisle revelations.
Thank you for the wink and the truth in the same breath. It feels like you’re cheering for all of us to stop postponing our own aliveness, and I really receive that. Also I hope tab number eleven is something fun, like a recipe you will never cook. 😜
I hate when Substack does that! Twilight zone music indeed 🧡
Love this. I appreciate the bio at the end. I can identify with most. I've been divorced, homeless, hit a dump truck head on and crushed my nose and bit off a small piece of my tongue.
Thanks for sharing this window of time with us. I loved how you related browsing at the garden store to browsing at the book store.
I’m touched that you noticed the bio at the end, and that you “can identify with most.” There’s something quietly holy about recognizing ourselves in each other’s stories, even when the stories are jagged. Thank you for trusting me with that.
Alex, in your "not doing anything..." moment. You were doing something. You were being. You had a moment of everything falling into place and there you were in the moment with your fuzzy/glossy leaf.
I love how you said “in your ‘not doing anything…’ moment, you were doing something.” That’s the paradox I keep bumping into, the moment I stop trying to be a project, life shows up. Thank you for naming it so plainly, my friend. 🧡
Alex, this is so good: "Here’s the thing about that moment. I wasn’t doing anything. I wasn’t healing. I wasn’t growing. I wasn’t practicing mindfulness or gratitude or presence. I wasn’t optimizing my Saturday. I was just standing in a muggy warm room in winter, touching a plant that surprised me, laughing with someone I love."
Seeing your essays each week, I feel like I can exhale. You are giving us language that invites us to say to ourselves, "I'm not a work-in-progress. I am just me. And that is good." There's permission that many of us can't seem to give ourselves (I am speaking of me), yet reading things like this remind me that it really is about the moment-to-moment connections when I feel most fulfilled: I'm not "doing" anything specific, not thinking about anything, not doing research, not analyzing, not going to therapy or doing one of the myriad things people label as "self-care" (which, I really hate that word, anyway).
Like your connection with this plant (I adore plants, too - I think I have over 2 dozen houseplants, and they are my "green babies"), I can just allow whatever this moment is to be what it is. And there is such freedom and satisfaction in that.
I smiled so big at “green babies.” Of course you have over two dozen. That tracks.
There is something about tending plants that feels like the opposite of optimizing. They are not trying to become better leaves. They are just leaning toward the light. I think that is what I felt in that muggy room too. Not a lesson. Not a breakthrough. Just a small lean toward aliveness.
And I love that you named the permission piece. So many of us are fluent in effort. Permission is the harder language. Your comment feels like you are practicing permission in real time. 🧡
Yes. Thank you for pulling that line out. The “renovation project vs a home” thing is one of those metaphors that tells on me, in the best way. Like, how often am I living in my life, and how often am I standing in the doorway holding a clipboard.
What a great dare! I love the idea that we are perfect as we are right now, in this moment.
Thank you for this, my friend. Always a delight to see your smiling face in my comments 🧡
You are so on point with all of this. Maybe I never got sucked into self help because my parents were neither the type. Whatever the reason I am grateful to be able to see it and remind others that they are beautiful just as they are. Period.
Thank you Alex for such an uplifting, happy read this morning.
“Uplifting, happy read this morning” is the sweetest compliment, and I’m taking it like a warm mug in both hands. I wrote this with a little smile on my face, so knowing it landed that way for you makes me feel less alone in my own little plant aisle revelations.
So glad none of us needs to wait any more!
… and it’s only ten tabs open as I read this 🤭🤣😜
(For some silly reason, I can’t comment on your post, in spite of being subscribed.. cue twilight zone spooky music)
Thank you for the wink and the truth in the same breath. It feels like you’re cheering for all of us to stop postponing our own aliveness, and I really receive that. Also I hope tab number eleven is something fun, like a recipe you will never cook. 😜
I hate when Substack does that! Twilight zone music indeed 🧡
Love this. I appreciate the bio at the end. I can identify with most. I've been divorced, homeless, hit a dump truck head on and crushed my nose and bit off a small piece of my tongue.
Thanks for sharing this window of time with us. I loved how you related browsing at the garden store to browsing at the book store.
I’m touched that you noticed the bio at the end, and that you “can identify with most.” There’s something quietly holy about recognizing ourselves in each other’s stories, even when the stories are jagged. Thank you for trusting me with that.
Such a powerful moment you shared with us here! Thank you! I needed to read this today…receive this reminder! Thank you! ❤️💜🍀🙏🌈
Rebecca, thank you. I’m really glad it found you today, the timing thing always feels a little mysterious and kind. Sending you so much love! 🧡
Alex, in your "not doing anything..." moment. You were doing something. You were being. You had a moment of everything falling into place and there you were in the moment with your fuzzy/glossy leaf.
Priceless...
I love how you said “in your ‘not doing anything…’ moment, you were doing something.” That’s the paradox I keep bumping into, the moment I stop trying to be a project, life shows up. Thank you for naming it so plainly, my friend. 🧡
Alex, this is so good: "Here’s the thing about that moment. I wasn’t doing anything. I wasn’t healing. I wasn’t growing. I wasn’t practicing mindfulness or gratitude or presence. I wasn’t optimizing my Saturday. I was just standing in a muggy warm room in winter, touching a plant that surprised me, laughing with someone I love."
Seeing your essays each week, I feel like I can exhale. You are giving us language that invites us to say to ourselves, "I'm not a work-in-progress. I am just me. And that is good." There's permission that many of us can't seem to give ourselves (I am speaking of me), yet reading things like this remind me that it really is about the moment-to-moment connections when I feel most fulfilled: I'm not "doing" anything specific, not thinking about anything, not doing research, not analyzing, not going to therapy or doing one of the myriad things people label as "self-care" (which, I really hate that word, anyway).
Like your connection with this plant (I adore plants, too - I think I have over 2 dozen houseplants, and they are my "green babies"), I can just allow whatever this moment is to be what it is. And there is such freedom and satisfaction in that.
I smiled so big at “green babies.” Of course you have over two dozen. That tracks.
There is something about tending plants that feels like the opposite of optimizing. They are not trying to become better leaves. They are just leaning toward the light. I think that is what I felt in that muggy room too. Not a lesson. Not a breakthrough. Just a small lean toward aliveness.
And I love that you named the permission piece. So many of us are fluent in effort. Permission is the harder language. Your comment feels like you are practicing permission in real time. 🧡
'We’re treating ourselves like a renovation project instead of a home. Always another thing to fix before we’re allowed to live in it.' So, so true!
Yes. Thank you for pulling that line out. The “renovation project vs a home” thing is one of those metaphors that tells on me, in the best way. Like, how often am I living in my life, and how often am I standing in the doorway holding a clipboard.
I love this, Alexander. Thanks for the lift this morning.
Thank you for being here, Sue 🧡
My pleasure.