Groundings

Recently, I have been receiving information about my plants through an algorithm. I have a few fig trees, and one in particular is not looking so good. She has the longest stem, and it is not looking strong enough to sustain the two arms with the three heavy buttery leaves. The water takes longer to reach those leaves, and the weak, slim trunk is tilting slowly towards the ground. The solution I got from my horticulture expert, “Insta Feed,” was: cut all the branches down and low. It seems to me that such an extreme measure is hard to accept. I must take action, or it will eventually die.

 Sometimes, when we analyze how long something has been trying to “be” but isn’t quite right, we need to take a closer look. That idea, that project, that job, that friendship, that relationship, that doesn’t seem fruitful, strong, and healthy, must get our attention. The predicament is always, must we cut to the root? Start from scratch, or let it take on new strength to grow again.  We know that the energy is getting deployed, that it has diluted too thin, and now it is not working. It takes courage to cut it down and let it go. That part of life that is not serving us is depleting our strength little by little. In my humble opinion, things have to serve a purpose. Maybe it is a relationship that has died down. An endeavor we started a while back has come to a halt, with no fruitfulness left. Perhaps it is a job that drains us.  These “scenarios” we are about to experience can feel like an overwhelming avalanche of emotions.  We can choose to look at this with different "lime lights". These could look like the most dramatic Shakespeare plays,  comedic SNL episodes, or the latest Fox6 news. But it could also look like the most heart-warming Hallmark fall movie. What we have to remember is that where we have been stuck is definitely not the coziest place. We are so used to dealing with the uncomfortable feeling, but at least it is a well-known feeling. The unknown is the scariest thought. So we stay there, fearing, but deep inside we know.

 This little plant has been opening my eyes like the heavy leaves she so lovingly carries. I must take bold decisions. Decisions that will make me uncomfortable, and others for sure. I must be brave and just jump into the cold, uncharted waters. It only takes a few seconds to admit it wasn’t horrible. I just needed to say yes, to my peace, to my truth, to my intuition. I choose myself. What I need, what I deserve. I am treading the waters of calmer vibrations. I can see what I haven’t been able to see. A clear path ahead with not so many boulder rocks blocking the view. What an amazing view that is. It also feels lighter. Now I can move to a different direction. That is so exciting to me.

I am finding myself viewing things differently, with a new courageous mind, with new clarity and serenity. I guess the beautiful chaos of my previous years was distracting my needs. Filling them with so many chores and activities. It is time now to prune those leaves that are heavy. Letting them go. Cutting what is not serving a purpose. Making the grounding roots stronger. 

I hope you find those heavy leaves with time. Trust me, it takes time and divine timing as well. It will happen. But if you can start with that little corner plant, it won't be so intimidating. One little plant at a time.

All my love to you. We got this.