Expect the Unexpected
May 20 / Expect the Unexpected (a chapter from my first book)
I watered our plants today. We have five separate plants in the house: four small potted succulents that live on a window sill facing east and one large fiddle leaf fig tree that occupies a corner of the living room with a large window view. They each get watered once a week, so this is not anything new. I go through this same plant watering process weekly and have now for about six or seven months, maybe more. But today was different.
Perhaps it has something to do with a sense of responsibility. Today was the first time that I thought about the fact that I was helping to keep these living, breathing plants alive and well. If I did not take up this responsibility on a weekly basis, they would not survive. I understand that in reality my wife would likely take over, but you see where I am going here.
Now, I know that those of you with children are probably casting a mocking laugh my way, but don’t ruin it for me. This task became important for me today. It became meaningful in a way that had not sunk in up to this point. Not only did I feel the sense of duty, but I also enjoyed it much more than usual. I enjoyed the whole process of filling the cup with water, carefully pouring it into the container, and spraying down the leaves with a misting bottle. Another realization I came to this morning was that I was actually looking forward to this event. After letting the dogs out back, it was the next thing I did at 5:03 in the morning. Was I thinking about it somehow throughout the night? Did I dream of it? This was the first time I felt any real sense of urgency to get this done. It was fun; it was relaxing. Again, I enjoyed it.
At 31, there was not a plant to be found in my dwelling, which at the time was a small apartment with minimal belongings. As a matter of fact, I can say with absolute certainty that I never even considered purchasing something that would cause me more work or add more responsibility. When I think about that now, it seems a little crazy. Who wouldn’t want a live plant in their house to brighten up the scene and the day? The closest I came to that at 31 was having a shower curtain with palm trees on it. I find amusement in wondering what would have happened if I did in fact have another living organism in my house. I’d put the over/under on survival at one month. And that is only because a lot of plants can probably live that long with no help whatsoever!
Whether right or wrong, I would have considered it a hassle to take responsibility for even caring for a tiny little plant. It is amazing how much selfishness we uncover when we are finally grown enough to admit it. Those 45 seconds of watering—once a week—would have been a real pain in my 31-year-old ass.
Nowadays, it is almost comical to think about what I would have considered an annoyance not long ago. At this point on my journey, taking care of things is important to me. Again, I do not have children and I understand that is an entirely different level of responsibility, but I do enjoy the obligations that I do have to pets, plants, family, co-workers. I enjoy the challenge of helping them all get along in their own journeys, their own lives. It is fulfilling and even fun in ways I would not have predicted back in those days of 31. I would have taunted the very idea!
I wonder if it has something to do with some built-in paternal instinct. I wonder if at this stage my biology is trying to tell me something. This happens to men, right? It has to. I mean, I have a wife, two dogs, and five plants—is there only one next logical step? I am interested to see how this instinct—if that is what it is—plays out over the coming year as I meander towards 40. Does this feeling disappear? When does it reach its pinnacle? I never imagined that the act of watering plants would sprout questions of this significance, but that is what happened today. These are interesting questions and make this time in life fascinating. It is exciting to see your thoughts grow when you just give them a little light and a little attention.
-Houston Bailey (@BumpBailey)