Hey there,
The orchid my friend gave me for my 30th birthday back in April is still alive, which is nothing short of a miracle.
I’m committed to being an excellent plant parent, but my track record is virtually non-existent, so keeping this baby alive has been a rewarding journey thus far.
She loves her new spot near the window after Geoff and I moved last week. There’s so much light in here—all our plants are thriving. (Remind me to show you the view over on Insta).
Back to what I learned from my orchid, which is the point of this email.
Earlier this week, I was having a moment. Maybe you’re familiar with these moments—the times when you’re way harsher with yourself than you ever would be with a friend. And you’re in a rabbit hole of a downward spiral, feeling like whatever you’re working on or through might as well be Mount Everest.
At this particular moment, I was incredibly impatient with myself.
For context, I’ve been going through the process of better learning to articulate my wants and needs. I learned how to adapt far better than how to assert myself when I was younger. I’ve noticed many of my clients struggling with this, so it’s been critical for me to clean it up for myself too.
Along the way, I’ve had some significant blocks come up that have taken longer to work through than my slightly impatient self would like.
And like so often can happen when these moments come up, I immediately forgot everything else I’ve already become aware of, worked through, and integrated this year and instead became hyper-focused on this one growth area that feels like it’s taking forever to unfold.
Cue the even more dramatic thoughts…
“What’s wrong with you?”
“How can you not get this?”
“You should know how to do this perfectly by now.”
“Something must be wrong with you.”
Fortunately, I looked up, and my orchid saved me from the downward spiral.
I noticed the bud growing at the end of the chain of flowers looked slightly bigger. I’ve loved watching this bud come in because two before it on the other stem tried to grow… and then promptly didn’t.
This one, though, this one is going to make it. It’s going to become another gorgeous flower in the chain.
It’s taking its sweet time, though.
So as I was impatient and hard on myself, I looked up and noticed this bud.
Sometimes, we have to look up from what we’re doing and get slapped in the face with a plant metaphor to get the message.
Other times, we open our inboxes to get the message.
In that moment, I recognized I would never say this orchid isn’t flourishing just because it’s going through the process of growing a new gorgeous flower.
There are already 11ish other flowers displaying brightly in their full glory. By all standards of nature, this plant is flourishing.
In fact, it’s flourishing because growth is in process.
When plants stop growing, they die.
The growth process can’t be rushed. This bud has taken weeks to get to this stage, and that’s precisely how long it’s needed to take. And it will take as long as it needs to turn into a flower.
Why do we insist on rushing our growth?
Some lessons take longer to learn than others, and that has to be okay. And if I’ve learned anything, it’s that it takes longer when we refuse to accept this fact.
To cement this message, I made myself a few pictures to keep handy and thought I’d share them with you, too. I made you an empty version to fill in with the lessons you’ve already integrated and maybe one you’re working on growing through right now. If you fill it out share it with me so I can cheer you on.
Thanks for letting me into your inbox. I hope you’re having a fabulous week.
xx,
Alyssa
P.S. Remember that series I shared a few weeks back about what’s coming next? I’ve been busy behind-the-scenes prepping to release it—it’s been a blossoming process. So keep an eye on your inbox for more details coming soon. \
P.P.S. I feel like maybe I need to do a plant tour this week over on Instagram. Are we friends there? @alyssapatmos UPDATE: I’m now @Alyssa.Kulesa over on Instagram.