The Money Tree

My first plant I can remember was a little cactus that my two best friends in New York bought for me.   I do not really remember why they decided to buy me a cactus, at the time I didn’t really have any interest in plants.  I had that cactus for a bit of time, and suddenly it went missing.  I will never admit if I know what happened to it or not.  The most I will say is that it went missing during the remodel of my kitchen.  The verdict is still out, however, my friends, twenty years later, will bring it up any chance they get.

Fast forward, I have had plants here and there for years, I was always that person that couldn’t keep anything alive. I would buy a plant and within no time, it would be dead.  However, I just really loved the idea of having plants but as it seemed at the time, it was not in the cards for me.

The Money Tree

In honor of Johnny D after the Remodel of our Flagship store

After my divorce, I moved into my own space and I decided to try again.  I purchased a large beautiful Pachira Aquatica, more commonly known as a Money Tree. I remember seeing it in the store and thinking I just had to have it.  I wasn’t drawn to the Money Tree by accident.  It was one of those things I picked up from my father.  He would buy money trees for anyone he knew that started a new business.  He was always so excited to gift a tree to someone. The Money Tree is often associated with luck, prosperity, and new beginnings. The braided trunk is said to "trap" good fortune and bring financial success to the owner.  At least that's what the folklore and Feng Shui traditions say.  Whether that's true or not, I liked the idea of keeping a little extra good fortune around the house.  After all, I was on my own now and I needed to do everything I could to help me ensure good fortune.

I really loved this money tree. I would watch it grow all the time.  Every time it sprouted a new stem, I would be so excited.  It was doing so well. I had the tree for a long time, staying with me through two moves.  Sadly at some point, I noticed it was not doing well.  I watched it, hoping it was going to bounce back, but sadly it never did. The trunks started to rot out and I lost it; I was devastated.   I felt like a failure, what did I do wrong? Did I forget to water it? Was the sunlight the issue? Did it get sick? To this day, I am really not sure what happened to it.  I think the worst part of it all was the drama swirling in my head about, “what if the money tree held my good fortune and now I killed it?” In hindsight, the dramatics were probably a bit excessive, but you just never know.

Over the next few years, I bought little ones to replace it, but the same thing would happen. As it turns out, a Money Tree has a surprisingly long list of opinions on how it should be taken care of. I have learned a few things: it likes bright light, but not too much water. She (I call all my plants she/her, by the way) prefers not to be manhandled when it is time to repot into something larger. And please, oh please, stop moving her around. Once she finds a spot she likes, she would appreciate it if you stopped moving her every other week.

The one I have now is thriving.  She gets a lot of afternoon light, I keep her in a clear pot so I can see how her roots are doing and to easily tell when she needs water.  I keep her soil covered with some brown mossy type something or other to help keep her dirt from drying out too quickly from that afternoon sun and recently when I repotted her, she made it through without any dramatics.  We have even gone through our first disease together. After several years together, I eventually learned that the Money Trees weren’t the problem, I was. They had been telling me exactly what they needed all along; I just needed to listen.

Once I learned to listen, something changed.

The plants started to multiply once I moved into the home I live in now. I found myself in a place I hadn't been in a very long time: alone. After moving from my marriage into another relationship and then finding myself on my own again, I suddenly had something I hadn't experienced in nearly seventeen years: my own space. Space is a funny thing because most people think of it as physical space. However, space means so much more than that.  Space, for me, meant I could decide how I lived my life and what took up my energy and time.

As I was getting ready to move into my new home, I had already planned which plants I was bringing in.  The ink was barely dry on my paperwork and my new babies were being delivered.  I was so excited; the plants were all beautiful. At first, I thought I simply liked having greenery around me, but it slowly started to turn into so much more than that.  I loved watching them grow.  Watching the stems mature and how they change with time brought me so much joy.

Before long I found myself adding another, then another. Then somehow another after that. What started as a couple of plants sitting near the windows slowly turned into plants in nearly every room of the house.

I loved the way the house felt with each plant I added. The house felt warmer. Everywhere you looked, you saw life and growth.  The more plants I collected, the more I realized they were giving me something. Even on a bad day, I could water and fiddle with my plants and I would always feel better when I was finished.

They gave me something to care for. And a reason to slow down.

Now I have about 90 plants in my home.

Somehow, what started as one Money Tree turned into a miniature jungle. Each plant brought a bit of fresh air into the house.  The space feels calmer, the air feels fresher.  Each one is special to me and I enjoy each one differently.

Over time, caring for them, I’ve learned so much about each one.  Their likes, their dislikes, how much water or sun they need.  I’ve watched them become sick and learned to care for them. I propagate them into babies. Some have thrived and some, sadly, have not.

More recently, I started creating my own planters for each plant at my pottery class. One at a time,  I have been replacing the planters with one I created with my own hands, creating an even deeper connection to each plant.  I hope to have a handmade planter for all of them one day, but for now, I am just enjoying the process.

I never thought I was going to enjoy plants the way I do, after all, I was the person that couldn’t even keep one plant alive. I feel like, in a strange way, my plants have grown alongside me. Somehow, they taught me patience. They taught me to pay attention. And they reminded me that the things we care about only thrive when we make time for them.

You see, there's something about plants: a plant doesn't care how busy you are. It doesn't care about deadlines, restaurant problems, emails, or stress. It simply tells you what it needs and waits for you to notice.

Maybe that's why I love plants so much. They remind me to slow down, pay attention, and make room for growth.

My advice for anyone that can’t keep a plant alive… Get at least 10 of them, It helps.

-Jamie