I landed a job as an Interior Plant Specialist in 2022. It was a dream job, but it came with anxiety. I was given huge accounts by the most successful companies in my city. I would visit each location once every two weeks. I held my breath each time I parked, praying the thousands of dollars of plants didn’t croak. I was puzzled. How can plants go that long without weekly, or daily, care? There were tiny plants, huge trees, plant walls, and trailing vines that spanned stories.

I tended to plants in windowless hospital basements, trees in 50 ft floor-to-ceiling windows, and everything in between. I loved my job. I did end up killing numerous plants, yet my supervisor gave me grace. It comes with the territory. People have a hard time keeping one houseplant alive, so keeping hundreds of thousands of plants alive is a feat.

She would always tell me, “You’re overwatering! Stop babying them so much. They’ll be okay.” I had a hard time trusting her. If I didn’t water a plant during my bi-weekly visit, then that means it wouldn’t get water for an entire month. Fear coursed through my veins. My way wasn’t working, so I decided to scale back on my watering. It worked! I really was loving them to death.

The less I watered, the more they thrived. I relaxed, so they relaxed. Plants need oxygen just as much as they need water. I learned that plants are forgiving. If I drown them in water, they’re dead. If I skimp on water, they might droop, but they always pop back. Plants are old as time. They have intricate root systems and complex survival mechanisms.

Did you know houseplants can sense their owners from over a mile away? They lack nervous systems, but they react to light/sound/touch/vibrations. They can alter their growth patterns based on human presence. Plants feel us. They’re ancient. I came to know and love all my charges. They were just as real to me as any human.

I had to leave this job because I moved. It was heartbreaking. I’ll never forget my first week of work. I shadowed the man who was in charge of the accounts I was taking over for two weeks. He was 6’ 4” and very masculine. He was kind and shy. On the last tree of his last shift, he broke down in tears, his shoulders moving up and down in jagged movements. I froze. I didn’t know how to interpret the situation. I looked around embarrassed at the people staring at us. When I turned back to him, he was hugging the tree and petting it. Yes. He was hugging it. I was mortified.

He apologized for getting emotional. He said these plants got him through his divorce and he grew fond of them. He said he talked to them and didn’t know how he was going to get through not taking care of them anymore. I don’t even remember what I said, but I thought he lost his mind. Little did I know, I would be doing the same thing a year later…

It’s hard work keeping plants alive. I grew fond of some and hated others. I took pride and ownership of them. I cared deeply for them. It’s been over two years since I worked there and I still wonder about them. Did the next caretaker give them the love they needed? Did they die? Do they miss me as much as I miss them?

In my opinion, caring for plants is a mirror to our interpersonal style. I loved my plants so much that I killed them. I thought more about ME than I did about THEM. I didn’t want to get in trouble for neglect, so I covered my bases by overwatering so my boss couldn’t say I didn’t try. Once I stepped back, I could see I was being selfish and wasn’t attuned to the plants needs.

I started learning their preferences. Two identical plants, sitting mere inches from each from one another, have different watering needs. It was my job to learn that, and overtime I did. I took a cautious approach and trusted that they would tell me what they needed. I observed them objectively and noticed subtle differences in their growing patterns and leaf distribution. Once I started thinking more about THEM than I did ME, they thrived.

I learned so much about relationships through plants. They were like a Freudian Psychotherapist reflecting my projections. I started to see that there were times I was smothering my husband to death even though it was veiled in love. I was thinking more about myself than his feelings, needs, and preferences. Sometimes I wanted to process everything down to the most minute detail with him, but I found that he likes space to breathe and reflect alone until he forms an opinion.

Sometimes all we need in life is a reminder that we’re coexisting with everything…plants, people, jobs, houses.