death and life on the windowsill



I do not have a green thumb. It isn't even a brown one. Basically, it's the black thumb that rides in on the plant horse of death. seriously. I've tried everything and eventually, the end comes for them all. It doesn't deter me from trying. I believe that one day I will have a plant that lives on, taking whatever care I give it and flourishing! 

I have a windowsill in my kitchen that currently houses four plants. Until this very morning, it was five. That fifth one gave me hope for a long time. Eighteen months, eleven days, and seventeen hours to be exact. I thought sure that we would make it, together, my beautiful plant and I. But, alas, about a month ago, things took a turn for the worse. And this morning, I decided to just let it go. 

Because I can't keep alive that which is already dead.

Standing in my kitchen, on the last day of this year, I determined that this plant was just a withered and brown representation of many other things in my life. relationships. situations. places. Things that are dead but I keep standing over them, pouring the water of life, saying all the right things, coaxing, begging, demanding that life come back. Because it was alive once. Because it had such promise. Because I spent a lot of time and effort in the care of it. Because I lived what was and wanted it to still be.

And, I just cannot do it anymore. not one more minute. I will not enter another year doing mouth-to-mouth on things that are dead. I marched that plant outside and dumped it, unceremoniously, in the cold of winter.

Looking at that windowsill right now, I don't see an empty spot where once something was. I see light, a lot more light, flowing in. I see space for growth of my other plants. I see more time and dedication for the ones that are still here, still flourishing, still alive. Where once death stood, I see only life now.

and that's a great way to enter a new year!





                                                                         *my dream windowsill*

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