Plants as Mirrors

If you’ve ever visited my studio, you’ve probably noticed the jungle-like vibes. It’s no surprise, then, that I often hear: “I can never keep plants alive.” Believe me, I’ve been there. Honestly, I’m still not the most attentive plant tender.

But here’s something I’ve noticed: once people begin tending to their inner world—through therapy, somatic practices, or simply slowing down—their plants often begin to thrive too.

Plants reflect us. When we neglect our needs, they wilt. When we pay attention, they flourish. They remind us that we, too, need steady care—not just in the mind, but in the body.

My Journey into Green Companionship

After my divorce many moons ago, I slipped into a long fog. Days felt heavy, my body tense, my heart unsure of where to land. I couldn’t quite bring myself back to myself. A lost time.

Then, slowly, I began tending to plants. At first, it was just watering. Then pruning. Then, sitting quietly beside them. To my surprise, these small rituals became lifelines.

I noticed the parallels: when my plants drooped, I was often stretched too thin. When they thrived, I was usually more resourced and aligned. Their state reflected mine. And so, plant by plant, I found my way back into rhythm, into presence, into the slow healing of my own body.

Somatic Benefits of Caring for Plants

Plant care isn’t just “self-care.” It’s deeply somatic—meaning it helps regulate and reconnect us with our bodies and nervous systems. Here’s how:

Grounding through touch: Handling soil, leaves, or water anchors us in the present moment. It gives our hands something slow and intentional to do, which naturally calms the body.
Engaging the senses: The smell of soil, the feel of texture, the sound of water pouring—all invite us into sensory awareness. This helps regulate stress and shift us from overthinking into embodied presence.
Regulating the nervous system: Caring for plants often requires stillness, soft attention, and rhythm. These are the same ingredients that signal safety to our nervous system, moving us out of fight-or-flight.
Modeling attunement: Each plant has unique needs—sunlight, water, pruning. As we learn to “listen” to them, we practice the same skill of attuning to ourselves: What do I need right now? Am I receiving enough light, nourishment, or rest?
Releasing and renewing: Watching leaves fall or plants shed teaches us that letting go is natural. It shows our bodies that cycles of rest, growth, and release are part of life.

Plants as Gentle Companions

Plants don’t judge, rush, or demand. You can talk to them, sit with them, or simply exist in their presence. For many, they become quiet companions—holding space without expectation.

This can be profoundly regulating for those who’ve experienced stress or trauma. Just like yoga, mindfulness, or somatic therapy, tending plants creates space for softening, reflection, and safety.

Becoming Your Own Plant Parent

Caring for plants can remind us how to care for ourselves. Think of it as a living metaphor:

🌱 Get sunlight.
💧 Stay hydrated.
🥗 Nourish yourself with what your body truly needs.
🪴 Speak kindly—to your plants, and to yourself.
🌸 Prune what no longer serves you.
🏡 Create an environment where you can thrive.
🌿 Allow your seasons—growth, pause, rest, renewal.

Plants as Gentle Teachers

Plants don’t rush or judge. They hold quiet companionship, asking nothing but presence. For those moving through stress, loss, or trauma, they offer a steady mirror of resilience and patience.

They whisper: healing takes time.

The Invitation

Plants teach us to slow down, to notice, to remember that care is not indulgence—it is survival, it is growth, it is beauty.

As we tend to them, we practice tending to ourselves. And in their quiet, rooted way, they remind us: you are worthy of care, of growth, of thriving too.

Tending Plants, Tending Ourselves