It's my only plant and I'm fairly certain the only reason it survives is that it's a cactus that doesn't need a lot of water. And that's a good thing, because I forget to water it.
All the time. Dry as a bone when I take it down off the shelf. So I water it and talk to it and earnestly try once again to remember not to let it go so long.
When I first brought it home it was a tiny little starter plant. Just a few sprigs. But it was healthy. It blossomed and flowered ... more than once a year, I think.
Is that possible?
When it grew too large for its starter pot, I repotted it ... and then again when it outgrew that pot. It did well and continued to flower. Year after year.
Until it didn't.
It just stopped flowering and I don't know why. I talked to it, I paid more attention to watering and fertilizing, and did some research. But nothing. For years.
I tried moving it from one room to another, some with more light, some with less, but it never made a difference. Last year I put it in yet another location, high up on the top of a book case.
And something shifted.
It came back to life with a whole bouquet's worth of flowers. More plentiful, joyful, pink, and beautiful than ever.
Was it a fluke? Would it flower again? I wasn't sure.
It was not a fluke. It blossomed again this year with another round of fireworks ... new blossoms opening day after day.
I'm not sure what made it stop flowering, and I'm not sure what made it blossom again, but it reinforces the idea that we have to hang in there. Keep trying different things until something clicks.
If you've got a story or memoir project you've been thinking about, working on, muddling through, hang in there. Keep working at it.
One day things will shift and it will come together. If you need or want help, get in touch. We can talk about where you are where you want to be.