As someone with a long history of plant negligence, I’ve recently been feeling quite smug that a single plant is doing quite well under my care. Pay no attention to the other plants: the white-edged Swedish ivy that’s browning and losing all its edges, the ever-struggling fiddle leaf fig (more like fickle leaf fig amirite!), and the third plant I can’t even name. What you need to know is that my monstera deliciosa is absolutely thriving. Having defied the odds, it’s now living its best life in the partially lit southeast corner of my room, fervently verdant in all of its leafy Swiss cheese glory.
Every time I spot a new leaf on its way, I feel a certain type of way. A self-satisfaction with an anticipation that’s tinged with impatience. I want the leaf to unfurl so, so badly. I want to see whether it will be holey and cheesy or whole and heart-shaped. I want to know how it will reveal itself to the world.
I know that patience is a virtue, but it’s never been my virtue. And while I think I’m a generally patient person, patience is simply not something I’ve ever valued. Who has time for it? At every new page, my fingers are wrapped at the edge of the next. When I’m hungry, I’m famished. When a new leaf is peeking through, it can’t come soon enough. But, plants don’t care. You can’t encourage it, or pressure it, or do anything at all.
In a world that is so bent towards immediacy and a bias towards action, slowing down feels like an act of resistance. But I know my monstera, and I don’t think it’s even trying to be rebellious. I think it’s just trying to be.
And so will I.
Lately, I’ve been feeling very mainstream and listening to a lot of Charli XCX, The Weeknd, and SZA.
Perhaps one day I’ll write about the playlists that pump me up for a night out, but for today these are the soft bops I’m savoring during a night in:
Karma by Sarah Kinsley
strong Fleetwood Mac cover song vibes — specifically, this is scratching the itch that Gypsy by Hana Vu, which was a personal 2020 favorite, once filled
Sea, Swallow Me by Cocteau Twins and Harold Budd
swaddle me in dreamy whimsical hi-fi goodness forever
Paprika by Japanese Breakfast
there’s so much I love about this album but the genius of Japanese Breakfast is in her lyrics. Also, please go read her book
In Transit by Pool Cosby
in transit between places, spaces, and most importantly, paces
Happy listening, and thanks for reading!
Angela