The plant that survived me
This morning, as I watered the small plant that lives by my kitchen window, I realized how much it had grown. I can’t even remember when I got it — it simply became part of my mornings, quietly existing there. What struck me today was that it’s the first plant that has ever survived under my care. My father was a gardener; he used to gift me all kinds of plants, and somehow, they all ended up dying, even the aloe vera, which everyone says is almost impossible to kill. I followed tutorials, measured sunlight, water, temperature… and yet, they withered. This one didn’t. I didn’t do anything special, didn’t force it to grow — I simply let it be. And still, it grew, in silence, in its own rhythm, without my control. As I watched it today, I thought, He lives in my heart, and I carry his love every day. This plant, alive and thriving, became a mirror for me, reflecting resilience without effort, a quiet demonstration of life’s generosity.
A mirror in the soil
I saw myself reflected in that plant — in how it survived without effort, in how it found life despite neglect. Life used to feel heavy, as if I was always swimming against an invisible current. I used to hear people say, life is a gift, and I never understood it. I’d think: a gift? please, give me the receipt — I’d like to return it. Years ago, I was angry at life. Angry for the pain, the losses, the endless questions without answers. I thought, I didn’t choose this. But years ago, I began a change, and since then, something in me has softened. This morning, after a small incident that could have ruined my day, I whispered, I love you, life. Not because it’s perfect — but because I finally understood that the gift isn’t life itself, the gift is you. Seeing the plant grow without my intervention made me realize that life, like us, thrives when allowed to be.
Beyond belief
I’m not a religious person, though I deeply respect all paths. I believe in the human spirit, in our innate capacity to reach what some call God, the Source, or simply Consciousness. Truth is not something to be told, but to be lived. I trust experience above words, because words can deceive — experience cannot. If we spend our lives repeating the same thoughts, we never leave space for new ones to emerge. I spent years sabotaging myself, clinging to what hurt simply because it was familiar. To believe in yourself feels almost impossible until one day it stops being a belief and becomes a knowing. That knowing doesn’t come from others; it’s born within you, and it changes everything. As Carl Jung wrote, “Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.” Awakening, I’ve learned, doesn’t mean escaping life — it means meeting it fully, even in its chaos, embracing both pain and joy as teachers of our own consciousness.
The quantum dance of being
Modern physics tells us that matter isn’t as solid as it seems. At the smallest scales, reality is a sea of fluctuations — particles appearing and disappearing, waves collapsing into form through observation. We are not separate from that; our consciousness is part of that same dance. Our bodies, our thoughts, and our very existence are composed of the same fundamental energy that forms stars, planets, oceans, and atoms. We are made of quarks, electrons, and the vibrations of energy fields. Every thought, every emotion, every action carries a frequency that resonates through us and the world around us. When our inner state is out of harmony, when we resist ourselves or life, it creates dissonance — subtle vibrations that ripple through our being and distort our experience. Conversely, when we align with ourselves, allowing life to flow, we become a coherent field, resonating in harmony with the universe. Rumi said, “You are not a drop in the ocean. You are the entire ocean in a drop.” When I read that, it felt like he was describing quantum entanglement in poetry. We are all connected expressions of the same field — living, breathing reflections of the universe discovering itself.
When life starts to live through you
Today, I don’t try to force life anymore. I listen. I notice how even my smallest choices carry energy — how watering a plant can become a prayer. The plant grows because I’ve stopped trying to control it, just as I’ve stopped trying to control myself. I began with small steps — making different choices from the ones my past self would have made. That alone was revolutionary. Life followed, always one step behind, as if saying, I’ve been waiting for you to trust me. We are not separate, you and I. We are the same consciousness, wearing different faces, different stories, longing for the same reunion — to remember that we were never broken, only unfolding. To truly accept ourselves, to embrace the flow of life, we must understand that we are composed of the same energy as the world around us, constantly interacting, constantly creating. When we live in alignment with our own vibrations, we bring harmony to our existence; when we resist, we introduce dissonance that echoes in every cell. At our core, we are not matter but vibrating energy, a luminous field of consciousness in constant expansion, and the awareness of this is the gateway to freedom, love, and profound self-discovery.