It's Not Just for the Houseplants
I hung up the phone and sat on the couch, almost in a fetal position, staring out the window. I felt paralyzed by sadness as memories of years gone by swirled around me.
“I think I just broke up with my best friend,” I thought. “My best friend.”
I thought about the day we skipped class (because Senioritis was a real thing) and headed to Friday’s where we stuffed ourselves as though calorie counting was not a thing — appetizers (one each), main course (one each) and dessert (one each). Leftovers? What leftovers?
Then there was the time, after months of distance, that we found ourselves as travel companions in London. Our spirits were both youthfully adventurous, ready to take on the world. Unfortunately, our pockets weren’t quite in line with our spirits. But, I learned to love the day-old bread served by our hostel for “breakfast”.
I revisited that first Christmas after my mom died, she was right there, ready to hold my hand in the movie theatre as I quietly tried to figure out why this had to be my “new normal”. And somehow, we still found things to laugh about.
We had spent more than a decade bonding over everything and nothing. There were ups and downs, good times and bad. We saw each other through big wins and painful losses. We were sisters, divinely connected for a lifetime…or so I thought.
Sadly, there came a point where I had to choose between moving forward and staying the same. I had begun to realize that where I was, the choices I was making, were slowing me down in a way that felt nothing short of daunting.
As I began to see myself in a light that felt more free and empowering than I had ever before known, I also began to experience interactions with my friend differently. Conversations didn’t flow. Laughter wasn’t easy. All parts of our friendship felt forced.
Even before that day on the phone, I began to grieve the loss of our bond. As much as I valued all that we had been through together, the friend she had been and the connection we had, I knew our season had come to an end.
Have you ever thought about pruning? You know, the time spent looking at your houseplants or garden and cutting away old, dead leaves or any other part that is slowing or preventing the vegetation from thriving.
What if I told you that this is a process that is equally important in our day-to-day lives?
You see, in order for us to thrive as individuals, we have to be willing to take a step back, look within and cut the patterns, stories and interactions that no longer serve our Highest Good. We have to be willing to remove anything that is slowing or preventing our growth.
Sounds easy, right?
It’s not. Personal pruning is often a challenging process because it means embracing change and trusting the unknown. But, like our plants, when the work is done, we have created another opportunity for growth and expansion that is a thing of pure beauty.
The Keys to Personal Pruning Success
It's a marathon, not a sprint. I can't say this enough. But when it comes to removing those things that no longer serve us, so and steady wins the race. Take your time to get clear on what you need and what you do not. Sometimes those people or things that feel like they have to go are just what we need to keep pushing us out of our comfort zone and into our greatness.
Check in with yourself often. If you are regularly taking time to make sure what you are doing is really working, when it is time to release certain things or people, the process does not feel as daunting or painful.
Picture it. Make time to visualize yourself as the person you want to be. Who and what is around you? What are the traits of your tribe? How are you feeling? Taking time to visualize the goodness that is coming creates space that is healing as we release and let go.
Ask for help. Sometimes we need the support of a dear friend OR objective other to support us during our pruning seasons. Our strength grows each time we choose to ask for support. If you would like to know how I can support you, let's connect.