I am surrounded by plants.
I never thought I would have so many plants.
In the past, I’ve often referred to myself as a plant killer because the one plant I had in my 20’s died. From that point on, I stayed far away from all things green in my personal living spaces.
My how things have changed.
I sing to them!
I clean their leaves by hand when they collect dust!
They get pruned with special secateurs!
They’re fed with organic plant food that I mix by hand and they have their own gorgeous watering can.
Who have I become?!
I guess it is true, some of us eventually become our mothers.
Currently, this is the goal we are working towards for the primary bedroom but with more full-bodied Sword ferns:
Staring at all of the greenery surrounding me, I started to contemplate building a life in tandem with another. The ways in which we change and remain the same when cohabitating fascinates me.
There is a transformation taking place within these walls.
Within this relationship.
Within one another.
The process of constructing a life and a home with someone else requires a lot of labor, more than I ever realized. Most likely because I was never fully invested in the process with past partners. Whilst it was domestic bliss for them, it felt like domestic imprisonment to me. Settling down felt like the opposite of fun and nothing I wanted to be a part of. The few times I did cohabitate with partners, something always felt off. I preferred living alone and never found the person that would change my mind about that…until now.
Merging two full lives, renovating a home to our liking, and finding the rhythm amongst all of the above is the most exhausting fun I’ve ever had with another person.
Endless pictures of lamps, mirrors, sofas, chairs, bookshelves, lighting fixtures, ambiance and vibes are judged, then collected or discarded in the Pinterest/Instagram abyss of potential home lives waiting for us to decide upon.
A visual panoply of our love and good intentions.
We stare at the paint swatches in neat little patches drying on the bathroom walls as we brush our teeth at the dual basin vanity. Drifting between deep gratitude for this moment and feeling overwhelmed at all the little/big things that have yet to be finished.
The weighing of date night or finishing home projects is a scale I never knew existed, let alone one that I would have to balance.
This life we are creating together feels just as beautiful—if not more so—as the one I had alone. It would have to be in order for me to commit so seriously.
Amongst all of this transformation outside and within, amongst the utter exhaustion at picking out lamps and carpet, I’ve discovered versions of myself that I adore.
Turns out, I’m not a plant killer after all.
In fact, I’m exceptional at caring for these little bursts of life that rely on me for nourishment. I would have never known any of this if it weren’t for Joe’s love of plants.
So much of my life has felt like I was stumbling my way through the dark, crashing into things before I really knew what they were. Life with Joe feels like a light has turned on. I’m discovering things gently, with ease and tender love instead of crushing chaos.
I by no means have everything fully figured out. There are many times when it feels like I’m gliding through life on a wing and a prayer or that I’m a kid in a heavy meat suit cosplaying an adult. As many times as I’ve sobbed over the years, banshee wailing into the ether that I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing when things got particularly confusing and arduous—which I now know is the regular hazing of life— I did eventually find joy in the not knowing.
THERE IS SO MUCH I DON’T KNOW which has made life feel like one big wild adventure and there is zero certainty where it will lead. It is this mystery that satiates and soothes my explorer’s heart, allowing me to grab his hand with utter devotion and the deepest commitment I’ve ever made to anyone outside of myself.
What I do know?
I’ve never been happier than in this moment in time with Joe, in this city that I thought I would never return to, in domestic bliss that I thought I would never find, with all of our plants.
In choosing to be both witness and participant in my life, to face every moment open to the world, and to the possibilities, it allows me to connect with the land of the living. I’ve spent so much time with the dead. With grief. With sorrow. I’ve watched as moments passed me by, moments that should have been snatched and held close.
This year I have vowed to no longer be the person that says, “Where did it all go?” when looking back on my life, scanning whatever length of time that made those words tumble from my lips. To be both witness and participant in my life means that time won’t feel lost or forgotten. There will be minimal regret and maximum amounts of love/attention paid to my loved ones and to my own life. Looking back in the past, there have been times where I’ve felt deep regret at not enjoying life more. I regret not savoring those fleeting moments that I’ll never have again.
I’ve heard some people describe your 40’s as the beginning of your second act. Becoming very clear on how I want to experience my life in this new decade has been my biggest priority. I’ve never been so conscious of time, never so intentional with how I spend it.
There are four main things that make me feel accomplished and most of all, present in my life. These things allow me to stretch time and take notice of every detail, every sensation. They basically help me keep track of the days so I’m not sitting in stunning awe as another year passes.
Loving.
To love another and to be lucky enough to receive their love in return is an emprise that I wish for all. It will always be my favorite part of life. Showing up and being present with my loved ones, seeing them as they truly are and providing a safe environment for all of that to transpire is the best love I know how to give and to receive.Reading/Learning.
Every moment spent reading, words are exploding like mini fireworks within my body and mind, leaving behind the beautiful smokey residue of adventure, imagination, and knowledge. I’ve never felt time was wasted after I have read and/or learned anything.Writing.
When I write I commune with the deepest parts of myself and my divine purpose. If only one line is written down on the page that day, it is enough. The sense of accomplishment I receive from writing, even if it is only in my journal has carried me across many thresholds when I thought I couldn’t bear to take one more step.Walks in nature.
If I don’t take regular walks outside, I wilt. My skin goes grey and I forget all of the things I love about life. Walks are not a luxury. They are a necessity. Moving my body nurtures my creativity, being in nature ignites the magic spark that lives within us all, reminding us that we, too, are creators.
Creation is the very essence of our existence! What better way to pay tribute to the Universe, to ourselves, than witnessing nature.
By doing these 4 things regularly, time no longer escapes past me. Each moment is consciously placed in a treasure trove of memories that feels like a life well lived, a life well loved.
This time around, I’ll know exactly where it all goes.
Maktub.
Here is this week’s Caught In My Web 🕸️
🕸️ Andrew Huberman’s Mechanisms of Control. I found this article to be so bizarre. Are we really that surprised that a semi-famous man made sleazeball choices? I’m not a big podcast listener and I don’t know much about this guy but did he pretend to be the pinnacle of relationship integrity? I’m seriously asking because I don’t know. I’m trying to make sense of the article. I’m glad the women found out the truth about the man they were dating because physically he was putting them all at the highest risk for STDs but did we need to know he gave his girlfriend HPV?
🕸️ The Exes Who Froze Embryos and Regret It. This was WILD. You could not pay me to make embryos with someone after just one year. You don’t know someone after a year. Statistically you don’t even know the true dynamics of a relationship until after 18 months. I hate how women are biologically bullied into fast tracking motherhood AND we have to make better choices for ourselves. Let’s not forget IVF is a for profit business. I find the way it is marketed to women very ew. I’m not saying you shouldn’t do it. I’m asking women to stop mindlessly eating what is being spoon fed to them, slap the hand away, and start forming our own thoughts and opinions on all things that involve our bodies. Also something to think about, there are over 400,000 children in the American foster care system.
🕸️ The first trailer for Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is out. I can’t believe Michael Keaton is 72 years old. He looks fantastic. This was one of my favorite films as a child. Hoping it isn’t terrible.
🕸️ SHOGUN on Hulu is superb. Yes, the English captain at the beginning is wildly annoying but I think he’s supposed to be. He gets far less annoying after the first episode. Watch it immediately.
🕸️ Not all employers are tolerating Gen Z's laid-back language. Has social media stunted Gen Z’s growth in navigating the real world?
🕸️ For my next read, I can’t decide between My Husband by Maud Ventura and Everything/Nothing/Someone by Alice Carrière. I know they are both very different. If you’ve read either one, please share your opinion!
What Has Been Caught In Your Web 🕸️This Week?
🕷️ Thank you for reading JENOVIA’S WEB. Restack on Notes, leave a comment, or hit the heart button if you enjoyed this post. I love hearing from you! 🕸️
Love always,
Jenovia
I could write five essays in response to your thoughts. I loathe the pressure women feel around their bodies for industries that create a sense of urgency, fear, lack, competition and then exploit it. We have so much inner-knowing that we lose when we say 'yes' to these pressures, but its almost impossible not to I have a great friend, age 36, who has repeatedly refused IVF "because her body doesn't want it." And I think it's such a beautiful response. She is not stressed. She believes in her capacities and in the fulness of time. Frankly, for how long we'll live the forties are the beginning of the second third of life :)
I also felt that when I found the right partner, an anchor dropped in my life and I was able to expand and heal in ways I couldn't when I was on my own. I felt like a zipping live wire (not always in a good way) and my soul mate was my grounding cord. Our relationship scaffolds me, so I can direct my energy. Some of that, I think was that I found my sexuality to be intimidating and frightening--something I could feel casting heat that affected other people in a way I didn't always intend or want. But being in relationship (and also maturing) I feel that part of myself is no longer unwieldy.
Many thanks for these reflections--my skin sighs with relief imagining the good, clean air in your apartment 🌱
Oh how happy I am to hear about your nesting with Joe, the thriving plants (and how could they not in your presence?!) and the simple domestic adventures of loving. All the decades of death and loss, carried inside you like dark, fertile soil, now nurturing life in its many forms. Your writing is so immediate, close, I always feel like I need to put my phone down after reading your essays, and go outside to celebrate your life with any wild thing that wants to join the party.