My apartment is starting to feel...

                                               alive

​

Not because it's full of people.

​

Not because it's loud.

 

Because everywhere I look, something has decided to grow.

​

A new leaf on the monstera that wasn't there last week.

The pothos reaching a little farther down the bookshelf.

Tiny green shoots pushing up through soil that looked completely still just days ago.

 

Every morning I find myself doing a lap around the apartment just to see who's changed overnight.

I am someone who gets excited over a leaf.

​

But there is something new here.

​

There's something comforting about taking care of things that don't expect perfection from you.

Miss a watering by a day, and most of them forgive you.

Move them six inches closer to a window, and they thank you without saying a word.

They don't care if you've had a hard week.

They just keep doing what they came here to do.

 

Grow.

​

I think that's what I love most about this little home.

​

It's slowly filling with proof that good things don't usually happen all at once. They happen so quietly you almost miss them.

A leaf unfurls.

A root settles in.

One morning the room just feels a little fuller than it did before.

I guess that's what this season has been for me, too.

 

Nothing flashy.

 

Just little signs that maybe I've finally found a place where I can put down roots without worrying someone is going to move the pot.

So I'll keep watering them.

 

And they'll probably keep reminding me that the best kind of progress

 

is the kind you only notice

 

because you've been paying attention.