Some of my indoor plants are on a field trip to the great outdoors. There have been a lot of plant deaths lately (my fault) and since I'm trying to pull myself together, I thought caring for the living beings in my house would be a good start. Some of the plants needed to be replaced (because they were dead), but some just needed new homes. Others have been inhibited by location and needed a field trip to expose them to light on all sides.

The guy in the middle behind Sharky McSharkface lives outside, so he's not on a field trip like his buddies he's surrounded by.

I just moved back to San Diego after being gone about ten years, and am still working on my thesis. All the uncertainty and stress before moving, as well as the moving, getting settled, and trying to find my new routine, has led to a massive increase in anxiety. After getting my care interrupted by the move, I've found my way back to the same psychiatry department as when my dad died. They're renovating the outside, but the waiting room looks the same. Addictions on the first floor, psychiatry on the second. When I find myself feeling embarrassed, I'm reminded we're all visiting the same department and no one really has room to judge. Second therapist in a row to tell me I need to have more compassion for myself. I can't figure out what that's supposed to look like.

Sometimes it helps to care for another living being. I don't know, maybe I'm cheating. Maybe I'm using my plants to practice compassion on something else....besides myself. But I can't expect to pull myself together when I've got crispy dead plants lying all over my house.

A huge issue was the death of Stuart and his housemates. Stuart was a venus flytrap that I've had for about a year. That's quite a bit longer than I can keep most plants alive, so that and the fact that we both eat meat created a bonding experience between us. He lived in a terrarium with two air plants. He's tropical, so he's supposed to get a lot of sun and water. I only have two windows in my apartment and he didn't work real well near either of them, so he was placed on the counter near the kitchen where he only got indirect light. One day in July, I decided I'd take him outside to get some sun. I forgot about him..... and it was during a pretty extreme heat wave. When I got home and saw his withered brown limbs, I panicked. I had killed him for sure. Mike and Carrie tried to make me feel better, like maybe he'd make it. Long story short, he didn't. And neither did his roommates. Finally, over a month later, I have replaced Stuart and his roommates with as-of-yet unnamed plants, and added a little sand castle.

They are currently sunning themselves on my coffee table.

And then there's this guy. This guy deserves another shot at life.

He used to live on top of my bookcase. I'm guessing the reason he ended up under-watered is because I'm short and either had to bring him down to water him, or stand on the chaise lounge and squirt him with my water bottle. He used to be a pretty big, full, plant with lots of bright green vines. All of those vines died except this one. I decided I wanted to try to save him, but having a scrawny looking plant on top of a big bookcase was depressing. I dug him out of the pot he was living in (see the white pot behind him with little orange flowers that now houses a bright philodendron), managed to save some of the roots attached to him, and gently set him in this little pot with loosely packed soil. I feel like his demise is inevitable, but I really hope he makes it. From my experience in emergency medicine, I understand what it takes to keep a human alive, but plants are a different story. If he lives through being parched to the brink of death, dug from his home and plunged into a smaller pot, I'm going to give him a name. Something heroic and courageous. I don't know why it causes me so much despair to lose a plant.

This guy lives on the second shelf down on my bookcase. I have no idea why he's doing so well. I've had him maybe 6 to 8 months.

But you can see that he's got one arm sticking way out.... because it's the only one that really gets any light. This is why he's outside right now. I'd like the rest of him to get some sun and even out a bit. Maybe I should be rotating him occasionally? If only plants could talk.

This is one of the new guys. Poor thing was root-bound, and you can see how he's only had one side exposed to the sun as well. He's going to end up on top of the bookcase. Let's hope I give him a little better treatment than I did his predecessor.

This guy replaced another one I killed.... by over-watering. He at least appears a little heartier than the last one.

And lastly, this little guy got a new home. He's been in a plastic pot, living in the bathroom since Carrie brought him over. Carrie has an amazing green thumb. He's not dead yet, so that's something. He comes out every once in awhile to sit on the coffee table and get some sun. Not a lot of light in the bathroom.

As I was re-potting the philodendron, there was a root hanging off one of the vines. Just hanging out in the air. I don't know if the plant was purposely doing that or not, so as I put him in the pot, I tucked his little root into the soil and hoped I was doing the right thing. I suddenly felt like I was caring for a small child, and it struck me as somewhat odd. But maybe plants just need some love and respect, and they'll decide to be friends with you forever.