I Really Like Houseplants

In 2025 I discovered I really like houseplants.

My living room does not get a lot of sunlight. Unfortunately, the construction of a tower across the street from me has blocked most of the afternoon golden hour glow, instead reflecting a harsh Archimedian death ray into my window at sporadic hours. Amidst the darkness, my houseplants are now a reminder of the abundance of life. Glow lamps gently keep my monstera and snake plants alive under my television.

I've been impatient my whole life. My energy resembles my housemate's cat sprinting around my apartment more days than it should. Amidst all this, the roots of my Calathea continue to extend into the dirt and small unfurl by the day. Houseplants force me to think longer term than my immediate desire for effort-reward. Repotting my snake plant builds a quiet but consistent current of anticipation.

I have so much to learn. A highlight of 2025 was visiting a Costa Rican rainforest sanctuary. In the rainforest, composting simply means tossing your leftover vegetable peels and fruit pits into the yard. Within days or even hours, much of it will have already decomposed. The action-reaction reward system of the rainforest biome is almost terrifying to witness. I saw whole pineapple crowns be reduced to nothing over the span of a short day. There is so much life in the dirt.

The older I get, the more I feel an urgent desire to garden. The silent but constant lengthening of my pothos plant's roots remind me of all the home that I'm creating around me even when I'm not aware of it. I'm watching the global arms race with an impending sense of doom. We talk about revolutions as if toppling is the difficult act. One of the biggest losses of the year, personally, for me, has been my childhood favourite slam poet, Andrea Gibson. Their words echo in my head constantly: "We have to create. It is the only thing louder than destruction."

Maybe the angst I'm feeling in my life stems from the fact that I don't feel like I'm engaging in the focused act of creation right now. This is the first time I'm blogging in way too long. I don't have a sustained and consistent creative practice. I don't feel like I'm structuring my life around a particular discipline.

The new year always comes with anxiety. I don't think I'm even in the headspace to write a year-end wrap or commit to any resolutions, so what you get, dear reader, is a voyeuristic glimpse into my tender love for my little plants.

I think big picture a lot. My industry and current career choice compel me to think about the world in terms of scalability and performance: How to do as much with as little as possible. On the other hand, gardening in my little apartment feels like the opposite. The world is on fire, and here I am watering my garden.