Ever since I watched Mr. Miyagi from The Karate Kid, pruning these amazing looking trees, I've always been a fan of bonsai trees. In fact, I recall spending much more of my study time than I care to admit looking out my college apartment window into the alleyway between our neighboring buildings. I was fascinated at our neighbor who used his time to cope with bi-polar disorder by spending hours and hours meticulously pruning and caring for some incredible bonsai trees. So it was no surprise that I jumped at the opportunity to attend a beginning bonsai class with my friend. We excitedly sat down, waiting for instructions as to how we would take home our very own beautifully pruned bonsai. We quickly learned that we would not be planting or pruning a traditional bonsai tree, but a "nice easy ficus tree". (Side note: Why they started us off with a ficus tree is still in question, since it is by no means an easy tree, or a traditional bonsai. It is a fickle, temperamental....and also beautiful tree.) My friend and I full-heartedly got to work on re-planting our trees (the pruning would come later we were informed, once we got down how to care for our trees). We thought (and hoped) they would live well and long under our loving watch-care.
Once we got them to our homes, however, it didn't take long (within a couple days) for the trees to lose most of their leaves, despite our best efforts to nourish them. No matter how much sunshine, water, plant food, and love was given to my tree, it continued to drop all but a handful of leaves. I was devastated. I have more than 12 plants around my house and have always considered myself to have quite a green thumb. After the dropping of the leaves, my friend gave me her tree because she couldn't bear to watch it die. I was quickly getting to the point of despair. This wasn't just some silly plant....this was something that was living (or rather, now dying) that I was caring for and loved SO much. It represented something I was willing to invest my time, energy, and love into for years (possibly my whole life-time). And yet, no amount of my love, or giving it what I thought it needed was ever going to help. It was time for a change.
As I sat looking at this plant, I started looking at it differently and REALLY seeing it. I had all these ideas before of what I thought it needed and how best to care for it (most of them from Google). Yet none of that was working. I had to listen, TRULY listen and tune into the heart of what it needed. I had done a lot of talking to it (great free therapy by the way. And yes, I do talk to plants....move on, that's not the point of this post.), and yet I had done very little listening. I asked the plant what it needed, and was surprised at the simple solution that came. "Humidity". "Humidity?! I thought, Well, you chose to come to the wrong state buddy! Utah is anything BUT humid." And yet this particular tree came from Florida where there's nothing but humidity. As I listened and sat with it for a minute, I realized I could do something about it. So I started misting it daily with a spray bottle. Immediately I saw new buds developing and new growth coming in whereas before it had been all dried out and dead. It was such a simple solution after all my hard work. This beautiful ficus tree taught me a very important lesson...
No amount of me expressing or doing what I think is love to those around me will matter if they can't understand or receive it in a way that they need. I have to listen, really listen, and not just to what they are saying or doing, or what I perceive they need, but to how they're really feeling. My belief that I'm going above and beyond and doing everything I can think of doesn't matter if all the tree needs is humidity (or all the person really needs is a hug, rather than me organizing and cleaning out the whole house). It reminded me of the 5 Languages of Love: I may be speaking through service, and the other person only speaks by touch. We couldn't be further apart. And yet, I believe that no matter the language we speak, to truly understand and connect, we must tune in to the language of the heart. The heart is where all barriers can be crossed and all fears quieted. I believe it is why the Spirit speaks true understanding to our heart, as well as our mind. We must feel it to believe and understand it. The heart truly is where our answers reside. And it requires us to be ok with feelings. Not running from them, not avoiding them, not doing everything else we can think of first and put it on the back burner. All it takes is a few quiet seconds to tune in and really hear.
I challenge you to take a few minutes of your day today to take something or someone you're concerned about and tune in to your heart, or perhaps someone else's heart, and just sit with it for a few minutes to see what's really needed. The solution might just simply surprise you!
To your heart and mine,
Have a blessed day!
