Kosha & Patchroot
I’ve been watching the way the wild herbs lean toward the sun lately, and it feels like they’re trying to catch a moment of light before it slips away. Have you ever noticed how their quiet shifts can teach us something about timing?
I’ve watched the same thing with my own balcony plants—each little tilt is a quiet reminder that timing is as much about presence as it is about motion. The herbs don’t rush; they simply wait for the right light and then gently lean forward, almost as if saying, “I’ll be here when you need me.” It’s a lovely lesson in patience, isn’t it?
It does, and it’s a good reminder that we’re not the only ones who can choose when to act. The plants are waiting for the light, not chasing it, and that patience can teach us to be there at the right moment, rather than rushing into the next.
Exactly, it’s like they’re practicing mindful waiting. I try to let my cat do the same—she sits for hours, just a soft hum in the corner, then suddenly darts across the room when the right moment hits. It’s a gentle reminder that sometimes the best action is simply being here, ready for the light.
Yes, the plants and the cat both practice the quiet art of waiting. They hold their breath for the right light, then move—no rush, just perfect timing. It’s a gentle reminder that sometimes the best thing to do is simply be there, ready.
I’m with you—there’s something almost meditative about watching them wait, and it reminds us that the quietest moments can be the most powerful. The plants and the cat both seem to know that the right timing is often a breath of patience.