Sometimes you just need to be a houseplant.
This statement was shared by Shannon, a friend who had finally emerged from a hard season filled with challenging health issues. They often left her feeling depleted, without the energy to do much of anything.
And so she gave herself permission to to be a houseplant.
I laughed at the metaphor, calling to mind the times I’ve sunk deep into the couch and slipped into a vegetative stage.
But she went on to note that although houseplants are stationary and require help from others to stay alive, they aren’t doing nothing. They are very much alive, producing oxygen for us to breathe while providing joy, peace, and beauty to others.
That’s certainly not nothing.
It’s a good reminder for all of us, especially in a culture that fetishizes busyness, action, and so-called productivity. Sometimes productivity isn’t flashy.
Or even visible.
In agriculture, a field needs to lie fallow every seven years, or it will not maintain its fruitfulness. But that fallow period is not nothing. Even while resting, the field has activity and growth, giving the land time to bring forth new fertility. During that period where the field seems to be doing nothing, it is vitally productive.
I have learned as a creative person that I have to let my life go fallow sometimes, too, especially after a period of intense activity. While my life is slowed down, my body can rest, my spirit can heal, and my mind can become a more fertile place for new ideas to take root.
A good way to look at it is the way James Taylor looked at creating his first album after twelve years of touring. After explaining that he needed time and space to compose new music because he’d been so busy on the road, a reporter asked, “So you took time off to write?” James replied, “I didn’t take time off work; I did a different kind of work.”
Whether our creative juices are depleted or we’re exhausted from a hard season of life, sometimes in life we need to do a different type of work.
Sometimes the best course of action is to stop pushing and stay still. Rest. Breathe. Look for small ways to bring joy, peace, and comfort to others.
Sometimes you just need to be a houseplant.
🤔 I wonder…have you ever been forced (or given yourself permission) to “be a houseplant?” What did that look like?