The Rebirth Phenomenon: Is It Real?
BY MARILYN ELLISON-POUNSEL
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Marilyn Ellison-Pounsel is a member of the KIZA BlackLit Editorial Board with over 30 years of experience as a journal editor. She edited peer-reviewed and other scholarly journals for the American Counseling Association and the American Psychological Association, in addition to dissertations and books for private clients.
An avid gardener and Earth artist, Marilyn constantly sees beauty in the natural world, and is able to find it in the most urban of areas. She creates beautiful, museum-quality displays from an array of natural finds, including urban tree limbs, twisted by their life’s journey to resemble driftwood; mushrooms attached to rocks, tree bark, stones and of course, a beautifully tended garden with both culinary and ornamental plants. Plants veritably sing in her presence, sensing the abiding appreciation and gratitude that she carries.
Marilyn’s care and attention to people are as profound as her attention to plants, as her dependable, quiet wisdom guides without pushing and communicates concern without hovering. Her patience and insight help to keep KIZA BlackLit on track, as she views with discernment the intricacies and potential outcomes—near and far—of every decision.
The Rebirth Phenomenon: Is It Real?
© 2024
Rebirth: A new or second birth. Revival: To live again; to become active or flourishing again. Regeneration: To become formed again. Three different terms that share nuanced meanings. My plants are always teaching me how to see these subtle differences.
When my husband and I married, we had limited funds for fully furnishing our wonderful one-bedroom apartment, at least not the way we wanted to do it. We furnished the bedroom, but decided to wait to furnish the living room. Houseplants were a huge part of home decorating at the time, so I decided to “furnish” our living room with houseplants and large floor pillows.
I worked in the city, and my office building was located next door to a florist, where house plants were also sold. Very often, the florists displayed some of the plants outside, and I would stop during my lunch hour to look and learn. I began buying them, and with the first one, a Chinese evergreen, I was hooked. I began self-identifying, in my head, as a houseplant gardener.
A few years later, when we bought our home, I could hardly wait to get my gloved hands in the soil. Interestingly enough, despite my love of gardening, I don’t like putting my hands directly in dirt. Over the years, I began noticing, in plants, some of the same “behaviors” often seen in human beings.
When we moved recently from Maryland to Georgia, I brought only two plants with me: a clipping from a zamioculcas, also known as the ZZ plant, that I’d started from my older sister’s plant, and a miniature orchid. The orchid was in beautiful bloom, but to improve its survival chances during the move, I removed the bloom. Shortly after we settled in, I noticed that the orchid showed signs of distress and seemed to be pretty close to dying.
About six months later, I decided to give it one more chance by creating a makeshift greenhouse, fashioned from a clear storage tote. I placed the greenhouse in a protected place outside and left its care to nature. I gave it another six months to show some signs of life. It didn’t, so I decided to throw it away. When I turned it out of its pot, the roots were covered with ants. After I removed them and the growing medium, there was a new, thick green root. Rebirth.
The orchid had a housemate, a maidenhair fern. Ferns are one of my favorite plant groups, but I’ve had trouble getting this type to thrive. So, into the greenhouse it went. I had no great expectations for it. When I opened the greenhouse to check on the orchid, I saw that the maidenhair fern had several new, delicate bronze fronds that reached the top of its new home. Revival.
Then, there is the story of an extra small succulent that sat in the kitchen window of our family home. It had been placed there by our oldest sister, now deceased, who was also a gardener. When I touched the “moss” that covered hard “soil,” it felt like plastic. So, I assumed it was an artificial plant and didn’t water it.
After looking what I thought was an artificial plant, on a daily basis, for almost two years, I decided to examine the succulent more closely. I was amazed to discover that it was a living plant! The moss lay on top of a piece of styrofoam that sat on top of a thin layer of small pebbles. I brought it home, repotted it in real soil, watered it, and waited to see what would happen. Within one month, the plant had produced new leaves and is continuing to thrive. I recently repotted it in a larger pot. Regeneration.
Rebirth, revival and regeneration. They are real for plants and for us. My plants are teaching me to be very careful about what I throw away.
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