GROW WHERE YOU ARE PLANTED, TO ROOT OR NOT TO ROOT THAT IS THE QUESTION.
I have three beautiful large garden pots that I have attempted to evict the current plant world tenants to put in some smaller, more colorful elegant ones. The first pot is a large beautiful soft verdigris color which I inherited from the original owner of the house and garden. Indeed, he actually designed the entire landscape… which I am grateful for! But this particular pot sits in a very visible spot close to the deck and walkway, and the inhabitant is for want of a better description is a weird alien looking evergreen. The other two, matching pots, I planted myself, with small spiky red plants that enhanced the others surrounding them, until they took over. I see these two pots every time I leave or arrive home.
On my first attempt to remove weird alien he held fast. I said “dude you are gonna get a new home” with more space and more permanent location in the front garden.” He said “Nothing doing”, this is my home! I turned the bottom of the pot over and found he had a thick tap root in the soil, pushed through the bottom of the pot. I broke it off, carelessly, and again tried to extricate him from the pot. Pieces of plant and flying dirt dislodged and no movement, and again he said, “This is my home!” I surrendered, and apologized and left with a sense of shame and guilt at my disgusting “new owner” display. I decided he could stay and die a natural, dignified death, I would simply push him back from the walk and place a new prettier plant in front.
On to my next conquest, the front matching red pots with overgrown spiky plant. I approached these guys with a bit more awareness, saying “here is a lot of water to loosen your soil, to prepare you for your move to your new location in the front garden”. Next day I started to attempt surgery with small spade and fierce pulling motions at base of plant…No go! They were not having it, neither one budged without lifting the 30 pound pot with it. So again, I surrendered.
This experience got me thinking about how hard it is for some of us to change. Even if an exterior force removes us out of our comfort zone and places us in the alien world zone, we resent the need to adapt. We kick and scream and protest loudly, how unfair life is. It is hard for us to take the long view, that perhaps the move is for the best and our future selves may thank us.
Rootedness is considered a good thing, generally speaking, but can also be limiting, if our being longs for different soil. New seeds fly easily away from their home base. The more rooted a plant or person is, the harder it is to let go of the known, even if not ideal. My mom, who is in her nineties, decided she could no longer live alone safely, or happily. After a few months living with me, who adores her, she became unhappy, and I asked her,” what did she want to do?” She said “I want to return to Phoenix, where I raised my family with my husband, your dad…” She missed the familiar sites, roads, climate etc.… I understood, but was sad, since I really wanted to care for her.
Too much change, too fast, disorients us and makes it hard to land. But change is inevitable and home can become an inner place, where like a crab, risks the naked phase, and sheds his confining shell to create a larger, more comfortable one. So must we, from time to time. For eventually, at the end of our lives we must do likewise and step into our light bodies for the journey, to our true home.
So as we try on different locales, cultures, summer activities and travel, take yourself with you, but be willing to spread out a little and cross pollinate.
Love and Light,
Satchi Royers
I have three beautiful large garden pots that I have attempted to evict the current plant world tenants to put in some smaller, more colorful elegant ones. The first pot is a large beautiful soft verdigris color which I inherited from the original owner of the house and garden. Indeed, he actually designed the entire landscape… which I am grateful for! But this particular pot sits in a very visible spot close to the deck and walkway, and the inhabitant is for want of a better description is a weird alien looking evergreen. The other two, matching pots, I planted myself, with small spiky red plants that enhanced the others surrounding them, until they took over. I see these two pots every time I leave or arrive home.
On my first attempt to remove weird alien he held fast. I said “dude you are gonna get a new home” with more space and more permanent location in the front garden.” He said “Nothing doing”, this is my home! I turned the bottom of the pot over and found he had a thick tap root in the soil, pushed through the bottom of the pot. I broke it off, carelessly, and again tried to extricate him from the pot. Pieces of plant and flying dirt dislodged and no movement, and again he said, “This is my home!” I surrendered, and apologized and left with a sense of shame and guilt at my disgusting “new owner” display. I decided he could stay and die a natural, dignified death, I would simply push him back from the walk and place a new prettier plant in front.
On to my next conquest, the front matching red pots with overgrown spiky plant. I approached these guys with a bit more awareness, saying “here is a lot of water to loosen your soil, to prepare you for your move to your new location in the front garden”. Next day I started to attempt surgery with small spade and fierce pulling motions at base of plant…No go! They were not having it, neither one budged without lifting the 30 pound pot with it. So again, I surrendered.
This experience got me thinking about how hard it is for some of us to change. Even if an exterior force removes us out of our comfort zone and places us in the alien world zone, we resent the need to adapt. We kick and scream and protest loudly, how unfair life is. It is hard for us to take the long view, that perhaps the move is for the best and our future selves may thank us.
Rootedness is considered a good thing, generally speaking, but can also be limiting, if our being longs for different soil. New seeds fly easily away from their home base. The more rooted a plant or person is, the harder it is to let go of the known, even if not ideal. My mom, who is in her nineties, decided she could no longer live alone safely, or happily. After a few months living with me, who adores her, she became unhappy, and I asked her,” what did she want to do?” She said “I want to return to Phoenix, where I raised my family with my husband, your dad…” She missed the familiar sites, roads, climate etc.… I understood, but was sad, since I really wanted to care for her.
Too much change, too fast, disorients us and makes it hard to land. But change is inevitable and home can become an inner place, where like a crab, risks the naked phase, and sheds his confining shell to create a larger, more comfortable one. So must we, from time to time. For eventually, at the end of our lives we must do likewise and step into our light bodies for the journey, to our true home.
So as we try on different locales, cultures, summer activities and travel, take yourself with you, but be willing to spread out a little and cross pollinate.
Love and Light,
Satchi Royers