Do you know Shuki?
Shuki is a plant.
Not the kind that spies on you. The kind that grows.
Shuki is not just any plant.
He’s a special kind of plant.
Special because of what he is (a money tree!) and because of where he lives (at the Playground!).
Did you know?
There is something else unusual about Shuki.
Other than the fact that he brings me luck. And the way he secretly cheers people up. And how he’s always in a pretty good mood but doesn’t shove it in your face or anything.
Shuki does not like to be watered.
I mean, he’s a plant. So you have to give him water sometimes.
But he’s happiest when he’s dry. A teeny bit of water goes a long way with Shuki.
And when you leave him alone and don’t give him too much nourishment, he thrives.
It took me a long time to learn this.
And even now sometimes I forget. Or almost forget. Or catch myself on the verge of forgetting.
Not everything wants to be cared for all the time.
Not everything wants to be aggressively fed, nurtured, worried over and tended to.
Some things thrive with very little attention. The less I poke at them, the better.
It’s outrageously counter-intuitive.
Yesterday I made Shuki a special sign. On a popsicle stick.
Because all the best signs come on popsicle sticks.
This is what it says:
Hi! My name is Shuki. I do not need to be given water — even if I look thirsty. My secret: I thrive from less.
Shuki seems to like his sign.
What are we talking about?
Shuki really truly is a plant. I didn’t make him up.
He’s not a blog-post-metaphor for approaching prosperity. Though he totally could be. Not a creation of metaphor mouse.
He is a real, live, ridiculously happy plant who is loved by the Playground.
He is also — for me — a reminder to look at how I feed things in my life.
What parts of me and my experience are genuinely longing for more attention, love, permission, care-taking?
And what parts of me and my experience could use some silent retreating, some separating, sovereignty, permission and spaciousness?
Where do I need to step back and water less?
And then I make some more popsicle stick signs.
I’m thinking about the various reminders that I’d like to (ha!) plant in my life and at the Playground.
All the ways I can remind myself and the sweet people around me that we can all gleefully take some time off from care-taking.
We can still be loving, thoughtful, kind, all of that. We can just water less sometimes.
Or if that’s too uncomfortable (Stop watering?! Are you crazy?!), maybe the practice is just being curious about which things want loving care and which things would prefer some alone time.
Internal investigations. Revue! And popsicle sticks. That’s what I’m working on right now.
Play if you’d like! And comment zen for today.
You might come up with things/people/projects in your life that might also benefit from less watering.
You might come up with experiments and hypotheses related to the above.
You might feel like writing a little poem, story or song for Shuki (he loves things that rhyme, or anything dr-seussian!) and then I can read it to him while I’m not watering him.
Or whatever you want. I don’t know. But I would love some company on this.
We all have our stuff. Working on and interacting with our stuff can be tricky, because different things set us off and because people vary. So we tread gently and make room for a variety of experiences. We don’t tell each other what to do (unless people specifically ask), and we explore in safe spaces.
Waving a popsicle stick fondly in your direction…
Kisses to Keren.
I, too, have a plant. And I only just now realized, through your story about Shuki, how much she and I are alike. Her name is Cleopinetra, and she is the first plant I’ve EVER been able to keep alive.
With all my previous plants, I set them right in the window, in the glaring afternoon sun. I simply assumed that was what plants needed. That, and lots of water. But always, in a week or two, they would die. I fussed over them and gave them more water and gave them less water, and still they died.
Then I met Cleopinetra, and I named her (also, coincidentally, my first plant who’s had a name). After some of her needles started to turn brown and die, I finally decided maybe she was getting too much sun. And I moved her to the shade. She’s been wonderfully content ever since. Not a brown needle in sight.
And in that way, she’s very much like me. I should come with a popsicle stick that says, “Please put me in the shade. I don’t do well in sun. I need lots of clouds and drizzle and 60-degree days. Thank you.”
Sending friendly glances to Shuki out of the corner of my eye!
I needed this plant’s story in my day today. Too often I don’t pay attention to how much attention I give to certain thoughts and ideas. I need to be more aware.
Thank you for showing this to me in such a fun, entertaining and loving way.
Have I mentioned yet this week that I’m in love with you? Because I totally am.
I had thought this way for a long, long time, but all the “expert advice” – I swear to god, I’m gonna burn books full of that tripe – said that you should “do __ every single day if you want to get good/stay sober/sane/make a living.” And Inowanna! I HATE, loathe, DESPISE doing things “daily”. (Oh god, so boring. I’ll cry.) And so I fell into this spiral pattern of destruction.
But this… yes, this can be worked with. Not wanting to do it isn’t necessarily a monster, or avoidance, or anything icky. It’s the thing wanting fricking SPACE! I wonder how much better it’ll be if I give in to the urge? I wonder how much saner and healthier I’ll be if I stop looking at that time as a “delay” or “setback” or “sign that it’s not meant for me/I for it”. What if it was, in fact, healthy?
*ponders*
a Suessian poem for Shuki 🙂
Go to the playground, go there today
what do you mean, you don’t know the way?
Just follow the footprints of Stella the duck
and you’ll find the magical place of unstuck!
In this magical place Shuki the plant is thriving
with a little less water and lots less conniving.
He’s happiest when left to his own devices
not unlike the clever metaphor mices.
So go to the playground, and have no regret
just remember, Shuki would rather not be wet!
There is a wonderful succulent plant that lives in an office on campus which has a lovely and perfect popsicle-stick sign just like that one! Except it asks for trust: trust that its office mates (who have a lot of visitors, much like the Playground) know exactly what it needs and it does not need a single extra drop beyond that.
I think I needed to read this today because there is something I’m supposed to know about not poking at things when they seem to need attention. Or about finding other ways to interact with them, when the interacting gets way too scary. I got to the brink of a monster negotiation yesterday in my blog, thinking okay, Let’s Play With The Monsters! Except I realized for the first time in a long, long time, that I was really not ready for it.
And that there was sadness and hurt and shame hiding in that. (I think mainly because I have some learning to do about how not-play can be a very necessary cure, even though I might want play to be the best thing all the time.)
Hmm. Now I want to dream up what the popsicle stick sign would read if I had someone come along and diagnose 1) what I needed and 2) how to gently inform passers-by.
If I could plant a sign in my own soil right now, I think it would say
Um, well, that last sentence was supposed to be deleted…but the unfinished thought is still appropriate! Picture me still thinking about that sign!)
Ohhhhhhhhhhh.
Forgot about this (metaphorical) possibility. I tend to metaphorically overwater and overworry.
Then, things seem like they aren’t going ideally, so I overwater and overworry some more.
Huh.
Alright then, I guess I am going to chill out.
Ingrid
Oh what a lovely post!!
Yesterday I staid up all night, worried and working for this big presentation. I had not been that terrified since writing my master thesis five years ago – with no help, under a strict deadline, while working as a receptionist during the daytime, and with a very broken heart.
I had tried a monster conversation. The interviewer was Dave Letterman, and the monster was called the No Presentation Monster. But it was mostly ending up in a lot of Letterman impersonating.
I tried writing myself letters and listing the anger and moving towards positivity.
The only thing that helped was “keep working”.
Suddenly it struck me that it was Midsommer – the longest day of the year. And that I’d staid up five years ago, in my master year, with my friend before he left and before the heartbreak. I didn’t sleep, worked all night – and it was fabulous.
And that I’d staid up last year for Midsommer, sitting around a campfire with friends in a summer festival.
And that working all night for Midsommer might just be completely appropriate- no monster conversations necessary.
This became a long post.
The point – as it turns out, in hindsight yesterday was a Shuki day. Quietly working despite all the hard things, quietly moving forward despite the noise around me (and in my head).
Shuki Fan Club!
All my best wishes
I think your plant and I could form a club. I need a sign on the front of me (with, of course, a Popsicle stick) that suggests that it would be great if people would spend less time suggesting ways that I could be “better”. Or “nicer”. Well, actually, what they mean is “more like them” but they don’t want to say it that way because it would sound silly.
Because it is. I’m perfectly aware that I don’t act like them, and it’s ok with me. Has been since I was about five years old, and I’m amazed that A) They think I don’t notice, and B) That their suggestion would make me smack my head and say “Yeah — I’ll change today!”
Where do I get one of those signs? I’ve got lots of Popsicle sticks.
Paula! if there was a “Like” button here, I’d be clicking it for your Shuki poetry. 🙂
Hello, Shuki!
(And hello, Paula! I love your poem.)
I recently was given a ficus plant, and she also seems to be doing well with a little sun and occasional water. She doesn’t seem to need a lot of fuss. I named her Hope, because she’s related to the rubber tree plant, fabled in song and story.
Perhaps, after all, it needn’t be so very labor-intensive or difficult to keep Hope alive.
Wow, Kathleen, I love that last line.
Outrageously counter-intuitive, indeed!
I wonder what other things I could counter-intuit…
Man. I feel like I might need to be watered less (self-indulgant) so I can take care of other important things in my life that feel neglected. And yet, the self-care is still so necessary and I won’t begrudge myself a minute of it.
I have a plant that thrives on less. The more less, the better. Sometimes I put it on the floor for a while just to not look at it. It’s the best plant ever.
Sometimes I would thrive on less, but I get nervous and think I need more. That never works out. Popsicle stick sign for me, perhaps.
And this is why I don’t need to hire a therapist…
Thank you Havi. And Shuki. And the comments above. And probably below.
*sigh of relief*
The whole time I was reading this, I kept thinking about some friendships I have that seem to thrive on less. And they’ve been interestingly challenging and worthwhile friendships for me to have, at times, because it is *so* counter-intuitive to me to approach a friendship in that way.
Hi Shuki! Shuki kinda reminds me of myself, anytime I go to visit my parents and my loving, doting, well-meaning stepmom spends the entire time asking me if I want anything to eat. It makes me CRAZY. But then I feel like such a jerk for being annoyed because here she is just trying to help me feel comfortable (and stuffed).
I had never thought of it from the other side, i.e. what are the things in my life that I keep poking and prodding in my own well-meaning ways that just don’t really want or need that kind of attention. I am fascinated!
Shuki let me
be
like you
nothing to do
be
free
no worry
I wish I could be like Shuki, cuz if I were like him? I’d be doing so great! I am the opposite of Shuki but I give myself the kind of self care that Shuki would love.
1 2 3 4
Shuki sitting by the door
4 3 2 1
Not much water or the sun
Oooooh oh oh
Not always with more
Oooooooh oh oh
Though I ‘ppreciate your
1 2 3 4
intensity and need for
4 3 2 1
safety and for fun
Ooooh oh oh
It all will be yours
Oooooh oh oh
But not always with more…..
1 2 3 4 …… just count up to the number four….
(and apologies to the Plain White Ts!)
I have been doing an extraordinary amount of fretting and worrying and predicting doom, specifically in one relationship in my life. I’m just starting to catch (or starting to remember to catch) myself concocting scenarios involving betrayal and hurt that -may- happen, but probably won’t, and man, isn’t that an exhausting way to spend brainspace? What I’m wondering now is how I can move from fretting to not-fretting. I’m not sure how to un-prod, since prodding has been my standard operating practice in this specific area. I don’t know if I’m asking for advice, but any kind words or thoughts on how to move towards un-prodding would be appreciated.
Loverly.
It’s so easy to be seized by tweakophilia. To over pluck your eyebrows or change your marketing message before your people have heard it to begin with. To fix things that don’t need to be fixed–and, in the process-send the message that things that are actually perfectly okay might be broken.
Thanks for the reminder to enjoy, and let be, the things that just want to grace us with their presence.
Love you!
It’s helpful to remember this when working with 14 year-olds, as I started to this week. Sometimes the best way to help them is to give them a reason to make the right choice and the space to choose
I am practicing Shuki this week, and reassuring my “hair on fire” monster that it is indeed ok to slow down for a little while.
On the other hand “Killer rabbit! Run away! Run away!”
I mean, um, 🙂
I need a Shuki in my life. I mean, literally. I kill my indoor plants all the time because I forget to give them the TLC they need.
But OMG Havi. I really truly love your insights here. The honesty about your stuff, I’m just devouring it like a thirsty puppy.
For this particular post, I’m going to have to chew on it a bit. I think I still might be in that place where I am needing a lot of TLC for most bits and pieces of me.
But it totally made me think about my little 3 year old. The ways that I over-water and fuss. Oh boy.
I need to get myself to one of your Rally’s. Really.
And i’m dying to try your Shiva-Nata stuff. It all sounds ridiculously good.
Sending lots of magic and hug,
Vina
The hard one for me is letting other people be and do as they see fit, when from my perspective they’re seeing it all wrong and making bad choices.
There is always a strong temptation to jump in and try to make them make the “right” choice, either overtly (shouting!!!) or, far more dangerously, covertly (hints, white lies, black lies but “only because it’s in their best interest”).
No. Must not do this.
Even if they ARE making “bad” choices they are THEIR choices to make. THEIR illusions and misperceptions to uphold. THEIR lessons to learn. And my REACTIONS to their choices is MY stuff to deal with.
I am not the universal puppeteer, even if I think everyone will end up happier in the end. NOT MY RIGHT.
When I was eleven I had a stand up argument with my teacher about a sum in our daily maths test and ended up in tears because she was so irate that I wouldn’t back down, but I only wouldn’t back down because I KNEW I was right. (And I was, she came back after recess and apologised and adjusted everyone’s test results. Though this is beside the point!)
I like to be right. This is a known thing. It is important to my identity (and the fact is that in many places I often AM). But I also know nowadays that the amount of energy I will put into a fight to make my understanding of “right” be seen and understood and agreed with can be detrimental to myself, my life and sometimes to people around me.
My sovereignty, space, and Shuki lessons about “less” are around knowing when to bow out of a fight graciously and leave other people to their own understandings, perceptions and choices, even when I KNOW they’re getting it wrong and that grieves me. My grief is my stuff, not their understandings, perceptions or choices.
I’m yet to figure out how this would apply in regards to parenting teenagers through the risk-taking years, or if somebody I loved was dealing with addiction, or a manipulative relationship or a cult or something like that. However, none of those are really in my sphere at the moment so I’ll grapple with those issues if and when I come to them…
Havi, I love all of your clever and creative ways for leaving little reminders…and just the idea of how powerful it is to leave the little reminders in the first place. Anyway, this is wonderful; thank you for sharing. (And I like Shuki’s name; I just want to say it over and over 🙂
This is a fabulously fun and honest post. I need this reminder for some parts of my life, but also some people actually. I tend to forget that I like a LOT of watering when other people may not.
Found you through Christine (Bliss Chick) and her link love!
What a lovely and perfectly timed reminder. Glad I bookmarked this…and glad I started cleaning my bookmarks today.
While reading, a Thing that is currently Becoming leapt up and yelled at me “Yesss! THIS IS WHAT I’M TRYING TO TELL YOU”, and I suddenly GOT it.
“Oh…….Well…..okay then.”
Thanks Havi!
@Jasmine <3