How houseplants made me a better therapist

When I moved in with my partner, he brought 2 houseplants to live* in our living room that belonged to his late mother. *They were technically alive, but just barely hanging on. I was in my mid-twenties, so it was about time for me to pick my next hyper-fixation anyway. I had most of the bases covered already: astrology, fitness, crafting, cars/trains and plants. I was working in community mental health, so I was already tracking the phases of the moon and receiving daily Costar updates. I was satisfied with my daily fitness routine and didn’t care to care more about cars.

I realized early on that if I wanted lively plants in my new living room, I would have to learn how to revive this pothos and snake plant (no pressure, they were just the only other living descendants of my partner’s mother), so I was prepared to take this task seriously. Fortunately for me, I soon discovered these are two of the most low maintenance plants you can own.

Fast forward 10 or so some odd years and I have nearly met my goal of having a flourishing houseplant in each room. While our first apartment has long come and gone, the OG plants made a full recovery and remain happy and healthy.

I bought some new soil and potted a propagation from my monstera. Over the years, I’ve been successful propagating a variety of plants, so I felt confident if I pruned below a node I would soon have a thriving new plant. I also used the new soil to repot and fertilize some of my other plants.

I felt so proud of myself for how much I had learned and especially to keep my mother-in-law’s memory alive. Just a few days later, it was clear that my new propagations were not thriving. They appeared droopy and seemed to be infested with gnats.

“It must be the soil,” I thought. Anyone else might deduce the same thing—all of my other plants were still thriving and the plants that were potted with the new soil were suffering.

All-knowing Google confirmed that it’s possible the bag of soil was compromised with pests upon purchase. I became frustrated that my plants had been jeopardized at no fault of my own.

I went back to the store where I originally purchased the soil and asked one of the employees about it. She assured me it was unlikely that the soil had been compromised and began asking me questions about the type of soil, plant, amount of water, and sunlight.

“How dare she assume it was something I was doing?” I thought, “ “Surely, I knew how to take care of these plants. They were thriving before this new soil entered the picture.”

I politely answered her questions, but I left the store feeling frustrated that she wouldn’t own up to the fact that their store sold me bad soil that put my plants in harm’s way. I sat in my garage feeling defeated and considering what to do next when I caught a glimpse of the front of the bag, “Outdoor Potting Soil.”

I had purchased outdoor potting soil for indoor plants. For those reading this who are not plant people, this may seem like an insignificant mix-up, but it makes a huge difference because of the balance of nutrients that impacts aeration, ability to absorb and hold water—which, you may have guessed it, outdoor soil makes indoor plants more prone to gnats.

OOPS.

So, what does this mistake have to do with my job as a therapist?

This story highlights the importance and dangers of defenses. Humans are hard-wired for survival, not contentment, joy and happiness. When your defenses are up, their job is to protect you from pain and ensure you survive. They’re automatic and don’t concern themselves with your goals, values, or the welfare of your plants for that matter.

In the moment, I needed someone to blame to protect myself from the pain of failure that I was the culprit who had endangered my plants. I was onto something by recognizing the soil had ruined my plants, but I had made the mistake by purchasing the wrong soil, not the supplier.

I was so determined about my original theory that I was not open to exploring another explanation. I had been so defensive in the store, I didn’t hear the plant specialist’s curiosity about what had happened. I just focused on on her lack of accountability for “her mistake.”

As humans, we have these sophisticated networks of defenses that serve a specific purpose for our survival. If we don’t acknowledge and tactfully disarm these defenses, we end up operating similarly to myself in the plant store and can inadvertently double down on our problems. The answers can be right in front of us, but we remain blind often searching for a predetermined solution.

It is so important in treatment to explore the defensive networks and learn how to feel protected and support survival in more convenient and contemporary ways. If this process is met with patience and compassion, it allows you to arrive at your own conclusions with grace and ease.

Ready to feel more in control of your life? Begin your journey here