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.

The Fluent Self