Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, I had a bunch of plants. A tiny forest of tending. Their bowls and pots and saucers filled with crystals, totems, blessings of space..it was a world unto itself.

Then I had a baby and every single one of them died from neglect. A part of my heart that was ignored, pushed aside, then left for dead.

This is my new amigo. The beginning again. A reclamation of self.

I remember when I moved out of my parents’ house, how it was such a rite of passage, the act of buying plants. Repotting. Painting their little terra cotta domiciles. Talking to them, nurturing, giving with complete faith. The thing I love about plants is that you can love them for free. There’s no commodity involved, no contracts of expectation or grace. They just grow. And that’s enough. And like me, succulents tend to grow slow.

Plants are good friends for meditation. They like music too.

Here’s a round my little pal and I have been sinking our teeth into – a little wobbly but not dubby.

Good shit. Super chill.