There’s one plant in my house. It’s in a corner of the living room sitting under a medium size lamp with a dark brown shade. When the lamp is off, the bright green leaves are not so bright. The heavy curtains covering the window on the opposite side of the room allow only a small amount of sunlight to reach the plant. It’s hidden away like that. The leaves drape downward, the bark seems bare and uninteresting.
Then you open up the curtains and pull up the blinds. A rush of light envelopes the plant and the details to its character start to come through. Like the fact that on the under-side of each leaf there are veins of different shades of green that zig zag across it. The bark of the plant tells a more interesting story. It’s marred by its experience in nature; in the world. Chipped by the wind and gnawed by wild life. Albeit, the bark is strong and exudes presence; perseverance.
In the light, it’s not as short. The plant jumps up at your eyes almost like a child waving it’s hands in the air. It compliments the room. Although different furniture and accessories adorn the walls, the plant is the only living, breathing thing. It’s the only one with freedom because it’s the only thing that can grow. While wear and tear will deteriorate everything around it, it will become more valuable with time. It will develop and continue to breath.
Be the plant. Don’t be afraid of the light. You look great in it.