As a plant grows, it often outgrows its home. The roots strain against the ceramic confines, the leaves spill over the edge of the pot. Left alone, it begins to wither, and what was once a home begins to feel like a cage.
These growing pains are familiar to most of us: the transition between adolescence and adulthood, the shift from home to here, the move from your old life to a new one.
As people, we seem to feel an instinctive need to attach ourselves. Yet the pain of leaving home behind cannot be separated from the promise of forging new paths to the future. Closeness always comes with the pain of letting go or struggling to hold on.
The metaphor of a plant feels strikingly accurate: the vigor with which we put down roots, getting used to having certain things or people in our life. And the pain we feel when that attachment is broken, our roots repotted to some unknown place.
Together, they are a tribute to attachment, to letting go and holding on.
Photo by Jyotirmoy Gupta.