A few months ago, I had four cuttings from a spider plant that were really begging to be repotted. That’s not really recommended in the winter, but since I get a lot of sun in my living room and the spider plant is an exceptionally easy plant to care for, it seemed quite doable to me. Each cutting went into a separate flower pot—three in large pots and one in a small one. As expected, those cuttings thrived in the winter sun and have grown into full-fledged plants. Except for one, and I found that intriguing.
All four plants were kept in the same living room, so they were all exposed to the same temperature and the same amount of sunlight. The three plants in the large pots have done very well and are now even producing new little ones themselves. But the one in the small pot has just become a sorry sight. It has brown and even dead leaves, looks withered, and it just stays very small.
When I looked at both plants recently, something suddenly struck me. The sad-looking plant is in a small pot, and the thriving plant is in a large pot, even though the other conditions are the same. It suddenly made me realize that if other people give me little room to grow, to be myself, to reach my full potential, then I too will remain stunted and withered. But with people who do give me the space to be fully myself, I become just like the plant with the babies: I grow and bear fruit.
Some people are just small flowerpots. I’ve had many in my life, including in recent years, and most of them are no longer part of my life for that very reason. I noticed that they—perhaps without even realizing it—liked to keep me small. That they kept seeing me as “that poor girl with mental health issues,” “that sheep who can’t work anymore,” or “the one who gets tired easily and can’t handle much stimulation.” And even though all of that is true, it’s not who I am or what defines me. I noticed that, every time I tried to focus on the good in me or in my life, they didn’t engage with that but kept steering the conversation back to what’s still difficult or even kept referring to my years of active addiction. And then I realize that with them, I’m like that sad little plant: I stay small and wither away.
Other people, on the other hand—and fortunately, that’s most people these days—are like a big flowerpot. They give me the space to let what’s already inside me exist and develop. They affirm my good character traits and the things I’m successful at and good at. With them, I can be myself, I dare to take up space, and I can grow. These are the people who are more likely to say that my latest blog post was super interesting, rather than focusing on my fatigue or sensitivity to stimuli. They are the people who believe in me and who show it. They don’t even have to say it in so many words, but it’s really noticeable when people focus on what’s going well in my life, rather than on what isn’t.
The logical follow-up question I then ask myself is: who am I to others? Am I a small or a large flowerpot? Do I give everyone enough space to be themselves, and do I show them that they have great potential and that I believe in them? Or am I the one who focuses on what isn’t going well with the other person, and constantly refers to it—verbally or non-verbally?
Can people be themselves around me and reach their full potential?
By the way, I think “reach their full potential” is a beautiful expression. It’s the basis for the word “mature” (note: in Dutch, there’s a direct connection between the expression “reach their full potential” and the word “maturity.” Unfortunately, this nuance is lost in the translation to English, but I still wanted to include this bit). I find that significant. We are not adults because or after we reach the age of majority, but we are only truly adults when our full potential is allowed to blossom. When our character, our values, and the strength within us to flourish are allowed to take root and express themselves. In that sense, I can honestly say that I haven’t been an adult for very long. I’m 36, but in a way, I’m not. It was only a few years ago that I made the decision to crawl out of the small flowerpot and look for a bigger one. It is only since then that I have truly been becoming myself—and, with that, an adult. Today I am firmly rooted in myself, in life, and in my relationship with God, and it is only through this that I can grow and flourish. It is my hope and intention to be a large flowerpot for others as well, so that they may be strengthened in their skills, talents, and beautiful character traits, just as they have been for me.
Reacties
Reactie plaatsen