I had a revelation today. Allow me to explain. This will require a backstory.
I am what you might refer to as a plant hoarder. As a result, my spouse put his foot down and insisted I stop purchasing houseplants. I can feel free to split and propagate the plants I already own, but I cannot get new ones. Before you think he sounds kind of like an asshole, hear him out.
I don’t just have a couple of plants. I have trees, bushes, vines, flowers, succulents etc. That might sound utopian to some, but plants are like pets. Every different plant requires its own regimen of care, they take up space (loads of it), and they can be messy with shedding and pests.
He kind of has a point. Fair enough.
So fast-forward a bit.
I’m on a break between clients, and I find myself casually eyeing a greenhouse. It doesn’t hurt to look, so I browse and find something striking; a Flamingo Flower. It isn’t a rare plant, but it isn’t a terribly common one either.
I tore myself away from it, and it took some convincing. It was a simple plant I had never given much thought previously, so I failed to ever bring it up before. I promised I would not get new plants, so I did not mention it when I did think about it.
Wouldn’t you know my husband comes home weeks after this incident with a… Flamingo Flower.
For a while I considered this an amusing coincidence.
Is it coincidence, or have I reached a level in my marriage where my husband knows my desires without speaking them? This is one coincidence of many, and I’m honestly surprised I did not think of this sooner.
I’m not the easiest person to love or to know. I guard myself against it almost my entire waking life, and yet, he knew I would be pleased with any of the plants available. He chose The One.
I used to find dating exciting, because it was mostly chaos, and chaos can be fun. Fun chaos cannot be sustained, though, and after a short period of time, it fizzles out or intensifies to nuclear fallout proportions. The chaos has to end.
I’ve reached a point where calm and quiet is the party is.
We go through a daily routines often functioning separately as a fine-tuned machine, and we try our best to meet each other in the middle. In this process he has come to know me very well. In fact, I venture to say he knows me more than I have ever been known, and there is true comfort in being known.
What is excitement compared to feeling deeply understood?