The rosemary plant had lived in the same small blue pot for a very, very long time.
She had been a gift from my parents to put on my balcony when I lived in London. That was a very, very long time ago. Earlier this year, she was still living in that little blue pot. Understandably, she was not happy. If she could speak, she probably would have given me the silent treatment. I was a terrible caretaker.
Actually, Rosemary could speak. And she spoke clearly. With her woody, scraggly stems. With her decided lack of green growth. With her feeble attempt at flowering. Every day she screamed ‘Help!’
Finally, I did help. Early in the summer I planted her out into the real garden, in a new herb bed. I did not hold out much hope. I had waited too long. She was too old. Too scraggly. She would not recover. And I would forever have to live with the guilt.
But oh, how quickly she returned to life. Within a few weeks lush green growth had started to sprout. Was I forgiven? I believe I was forgiven.
I can only imagine how she must have felt, her roots no longer hitting the edges of that small blue pot. Now they could reach down and out into a great expanse of fresh earth. So much space. So much freedom to become herself.
I was rewarded with beautiful, luscious, soft and sticky sprigs of rosemary. To push into focaccia. To steep in hot water for tea. But mostly I just crouched next to her, running my hands through her leaves, inhaling over and over again and dying in ecstasy, intoxicated with her beauty, so freely and easily given when I had shown her just the smallest amount of care.
She had been in desperate need of a change. And when that change came, she began to thrive!
And now is the time I write something profound and philosophical to relate this story to our own human lives. Something about outgrowing our pots. About how we thrive in the right environment. About the times when it’s time for a change.
But I think today I will leave all that aside and let you take from this story what you will.
Love and courage,
Leah
Carmien
Recently, a coworker was about to throw out a monstera.
The person in the office beside her confidently said that the plant was dead and DONE. I grabbed the pot and said I would give it one last chance.
It was placed outside with my other plants and after weeks of watering and waiting, a new leaf appeared! And that new leaf has unfurled and another is making its way!
I unfortunately have many moments of not caring for my plant friends as well as I could have .. but at least I also have this! 🙂
Leah Cox
Wow, I love this story Carmien! It’s incredible how something can come back to life when it seems almost certain there’s no chance. It’s such a special moment when you see that first spark of life again. Your patience and care really paid off. Long live the Monstera!
Natalie
Oh Leah, how I loved reading this one. Thank you for these beautiful words and for that important reminder on knowing when we’ve outgrown our pots! I feel like these past 2 weeks of changing up my environment has shown me everything you’ve captured here. It really is incredible how quickly we can start to thrive when we embrace change isn’t it! I love the metaphor and I can only imagine your rosemary growing ever stronger and more delicious as she takes up even more space. Here’s to change and spaciousness in whatever forms those arrive for us this season xx
Leah Cox
Thank you Natalie! I think there’s something important here in what you say – knowing when. As always seems to be the case, maybe the deeper truth in all this is knowing and trusting ourselves. I’m so grateful that you changing up your environment meant that we got to see each other! What a gift that was xx
Bonnie
Hi Leah,
I love the metaphor here: living small is stifling but living large is freeing allowing us to grow. Living small mentally is being negative, poor self image, or pessimistic leads to a stunted life experience. But thinking the opposite expands our borders. Being sure to keep ourselves in nurturing surroundings.
Leah Cox
Hi Bonnie! I love your reflection that what restricts us can so easily be mental and how an inner shift can expand our borders. Thank you for coming over to leave a comment! Sending love for your week.
Carole Thiltges
Hi Leah,
I hope you‘re well, and I just had to comment on your rosemary bush experience. So lovely to hear, the plant survived it‘s journey (they are pretty tough these rosemary plants😅).
Mine had been put in one of the holes in my stone garden, and it kind of „exploded“ over the years; well, „thrived“ you‘d say!😂 I do water it over the summer, and it gives back so many thanks: looks, smells, ingredients,…an utter joy to have on the terrace.
Weirdly enough, whenever I see my plants, I think: „Well, what would Leah say or write about this?“…and this is exactly it! Even if we can‘t meet in person, we are all intertwined and connected to what we love; and then we share our thoughts!
So lovely! Have a great day, my friend!😘
Leah Cox
Hi Carole – it’s lovely to hear from you. Indeed, they must be pretty tough given what I subjected this one to! I’ve definitely heard that rosemary can ‘explode’ given the space, so I’m interested to see what will happen with a little more time. Like you say – rosemary (and all the other herbs) give back so much beauty. That’s so funny that you think of what I would say when you look at your plants. It’s so true that we are connected by the things we love. I hope you have a wonderful Sunday too ❤️