Starting Small

Recently, I was speaking with Tian, a dear friend, and recounted a conversation with another dear friend of mine named Michael.

 

I told Tian that Michael had asked his spiritual mentor to help him with something. The mentor took his glasses off, laid them on the desk, and asked what he wanted. Michael replied, ‘I want to learn how to love’. The mentor gazed at Michael and sat up in his chair and said, ‘So do I’.

 

That began a rather lengthy conversation about love. She is a counsellor, a healer, a life coach, and author and a student of life. She is also filled with love herself. You can see it in her soft, tender smile and hear it in her kind, compassionate voice. You know you are loved the minute you engage with her. 

 

Not too many people are like that.  She is.

 

She gave me a simple challenge:

 

“If you want to learn how to love, start small,” she began.

 

“What do you mean?” I asked.

 

“Fall … in love … with a plant,” she unwrapped the answer for me like a Christmas present. “Pick a plant in your house or at a store that isn’t in good shape. Start giving it love.”

 

Silence.

 

“Learn all about the plant. Research it online. See under what conditions it grows best. Give it what it needs. Nurture it, feed it. Water it. Fertilize it. Love it!”

 

Silence. I listened with rapt attention.

 

 “Touch and stroke its leaves and branches. Talk to it, gently and lovingly. Play music for it…the soft mellow kind. Be its friend.”

 

“Its friend?” I asked. “How can I be a plant’s friend?”

 

“Well, what do you do as you get to know someone? Introduce yourself. Find out its name. Ask it questions and share your own story. Tell it what’s been going on in your life. Share your sorrows, your hopes and aspirations. Confide those tender secrets you’re afraid to voice.”

 

Silence.

 

“You can trust your new friend with a confidence. Trust is, after all, at the core of a true friendship.”

 

I smiled, thinking of some of those secrets… the money I stole at the age of ten from my mother’s piggy bank that she was saving for a trip to Hawaii; the day in third grade when I pulled Margaret’s pig tails and blamed it on Jaime Gonzalez; or when I was caught throwing rocks into the Gem Grocery Store across from Smith Elementary School in Fifth Grade. I lied to the Principal about that one.

 

“I have a lot of secrets, you know,” I said to Tian.

 

“We all do, Lynn. Talking about them to a trusted friend is part of the letting go of guilt. Those things are over and done with…  but if we drop them. Telling another human being helps us move on.”

 

A pause.

 

“Tian, say I do all those things and the plant still dies. Did I fail to love it enough?” I asked.

 

“Sometimes plants die…just like sometimes people die. The point in this exercise is for YOU to learn to love… not for you to be the savior of the plant. That’s just an ancillary benefit. Remember. It’s about you learning to love.” She added.

 

A pause, then she added more. “Think of everything that the plant needs to flourish. Provide it. Then give it parts of yourself – your friendship. Your time. Your consideration. Your compassion. Show it that you care about its needs.”

 

I was making notes when she said, “You’re treating this like a class, Lynn. Put your pen and notes away and just ask yourself what you want from friendship and love. Then do the same for the plant.”

 

“ Focus your attention on the plant as you make it a real part of your life. Just know that what you are doing to your new friend is teaching you how to love on a small scale. Then later ramp it up with higher and higher order. You’ll see that it works.”

 

So, here’s what I did. I picked a hydrangea in poor condition because I neglected it. Her name is Harriet and we had a brief first talk.

 

“Harriet, I am so sorry I neglected you. I’ll make it up to you. You’re gonna be okay,” I told her.

 

I brought Harriet outside during a warmer part of the day, shed all the dead leaves carefully, trimmed some of the dead branches, cleaned up the pot. I tilled the soil a bit. I mixed some Miracle Gro in a watering can, measuring carefully. I watered and fertilized her. I stroked her leaves that were still supple and green and gently spoke to her. I let her enjoy the sunshine during the day. At five o’clock I brought Harriet inside and set her at the French door with an exposure to the sun. It was near a Bluetooth player, so I asked her if she would like some music. I played the Ed Sheeran station with soft, gentle sounds at a moderate level. I wrapped her pot in a red ribbon with a great big bow in front. 

 

I researched Hydrangea and learned all about them from several different websites. I was now the neighborhood expert.

 

Harriet looked lonely and I wondered about a friend more like her but I wasn’t sure if that might make her jealous so I declined the idea. I gave myself to her instead. I would be her friend. After all she was my beloved.

 

After about two weeks I began to see signs of regrowth with tiny green sprouts coming out on the stems that I thought had died. I praised her fortitude and again apologized for my lapse in judgment. 

 

I made her my whole world when I was home. She didn’t seem introverted so I centered my activities around her. If I had any reading (or writing) to do, I would do it near her and often gaze and admire her emerging stamina. She was gorgeous. I told her so. I praised her strength and continued to care for her, often more than I did to my own personal appearance. 

 

One morning, I wondered what she might think of my scraggly, unshaven face, but I always smiled at her. Then I went to the shower to shave and wash my face.

 

I placed her outside on the guardrail bench that overlooks lush, green trees that define my back yard. I wanted her to have a pretty view. When I would bring her inside she had the best room in the house. I placed her next to the French door and near some beautiful artwork of happy children playing in a garden. The sunroom is painted lime green and has lots of windows with natural light. There are many other healthy plants around her. She is the only one with a ribbon and bow. 

 

When I would come home after errands, I would tell her stories of things that happened. I told her jokes. I laughed around her. I laughed with her.

 

After a month or so my friend, Tian, called and wanted to talk about what I had learned about love. I had forgotten the assignment. It had begun to feel natural to love this emerging plant. I had fallen in love with Harriet! We talked about what I did over the past month and how Harriet was responding.

 

“So, your experiment has gone well,” Tian offered.

 

“How do you mean?” I asked.

 

“You have begun to understand a bit of this thing called love, no matter who or what is the focus of your giving.” 

 

We began to enumerate what I had learned. It felt a lot like reading the Robert Fulgham book, All I really need to know I learned in Kindergarten, things like sharing, being kind, cleaning up after yourself and a few other basic rules. So here’s the summary of what I learned:

 

• If you have caused harm, acknowledge it and ask forgiveness then compensate for that harm.

• Be honest … with yourself as well as with Harriet 

• Be authentic, be yourself. She is never not herself. 

• Imagine your beloved’s place in the World. Is she there? Should you move her? She can’t remember? Surround your beloved with beauty.

• Learn what your beloved needs in order to flourish in her (or his) world then apply those needs.

  • Don’t over do it…too much fertilizer can burn!

  • While both are water, soft rain is better than a raging storm

• Communicate with words, action and emotion. 

  • They should all match!

• Touch your beloved with gentleness. Let your fingers express your love.

• Give your beloved the best of what you have to offer. YOU are your best!

• Brag on your beloved to your friends. Show your beloved how proud you are of her.

• Be patient with your beloved

  • Remember it takes nature time to heal.

• Be present. Know where you are. When you are with her…be WITH her.

• Trust in life. Trust in nature. Trust Harriet.

• Be Affectionate. Show love through a loving kiss.

• Give your beloved space when she needs that.

  • We sometimes need that alone time to heal or just rest.

• Look at your beloved…see her as she is. Accept her as she is.

  • In the act of love we have to suspend judgment and finding fault. 

    • Leaves may turn brown.

  • She may not be a perfect hydrangea but she is perfectly your hydrangea. 

 

Remember, start small.