4 min
You see the plant every day. It’s right there—next to the pile of Amazon boxes you keep meaning to recycle or the books you swear you’ll get to someday. And for a while, the plant looks fine. Still green. Still standing. You figure, “Eh, I’ll water it tomorrow.”
And then, one day, it’s not fine. The leaves curl, the green fades, and suddenly you’re Googling “how to save a dying plant.” Maybe a friend visits and says, “Hey, uh, that plant okay?” You feel a pang of guilt because you forgot, but also, you didn’t really forget. You just got distracted. Life happens.
The truth is, this isn’t about plants. It’s about everything in our lives that we put off—relationships, health, clutter, self-care. We get distracted by the things screaming the loudest for our attention (or that causes us the most irritation or stress- looking at you, work emails and social media), while the quieter things—the plant, how clear your brain feels, how normal our blood pressure is—fade into the background. They don’t scream for help until it’s almost too late.
Think about a dog. If a dog needs something, you’ll know. It barks. It pees in your shoes. It chews up your couch. It pulls your attention immediately.
But plants? Plants don’t bark. They just quietly exist, waiting for you to notice them. And if you don’t? They’ll quietly die.
You’ve felt this way too—not appreciated, ignored. Maybe you were once celebrated for being self-sufficient, but that didn’t mean you only want to be self-sufficient. Just like the plant, you don’t need constant attention—but you do need to feel seen, valued, and cared for. It’s easy to feel forgotten when you’re doing everything right, quietly thriving in the background.
The same goes for a lot of things in life. Your health doesn’t shout at you—until you’ve got chronic headaches or your body just feels… off. Your relationships might not seem urgent—until there’s a fight or you realize you’ve been drifting apart. The stuff that matters most is often is often the most resilient and can manage neglect – until it can’t. It hums in the background, steady and consistent, until it can no longer fend for itself.
This isn’t about blaming yourself. We all do it. Life gets busy. The plant looks fine. And then it doesn’t. The real question is: how do we stop this cycle before we lose what’s important?
Here’s the thing: everything you care about, everything that matters, is on loan to you. You don’t own it. Your health, your relationships, even your hobbies—if you stop investing in them, they’ll drift. That’s not a judgment; it’s just how life works. But that truth is also what makes these things so special. They’re not yours to control—they’re yours to nurture.
So how do you nurture the things that matter? You create systems that gently pull your attention back to them. Think of holidays. At their core, holidays are reminders—built-in rituals that say, “Hey, pause and remember this.” Sure, maybe holidays have been hijacked by Hallmark and capitalism, but the original idea is solid. It’s about creating moments to celebrate the things we’d otherwise forget.
Try this out:
The plant doesn’t bark. It won’t remind you it’s there. But that doesn’t mean it’s not important. The quiet things in life often matter the most. They’re the things that make your life richer, fuller, more meaningful. And they’re worth celebrating—not just because they need you, but because you need them.
So, pause. Take a moment. Look around. Water the plant.