There is a lone, potted plant on the 5th floor of the building I teach in with a handwritten note tucked into its soil that reads "Please don't feed me". I don't know what kind of plant it is, and why it doesn't need "fed", or even why it's there. It seems pretty strange for it to even be there at all, and for all it's not-needing-to-be-fed, it looks kind of sickly.
This plant has been on my mind, since I see it almost every evening when I go into work. I wonder how it applies to my life, and then it hits me like a ton of bricks that the plant IS my life and that's why I'm so taken with it. I go around thinking that I don't need to feed adequately so many sides of myself sometimes, like putting my relationship with my husband or with God on auto-pilot and then getting frustrated by the fact that I don't feel nourished. Well, I'm unfed. When I think I don't need food anymore, I start to shrivel like that plant. There's never time, there's never time but other activities are getting my attention so that means that there is time available. I must choose to align my values with my actions and my priorities with what is lasting. I must get back to these things and everything else will fall into place.
That plant is an imposter. It must be artificial!