Is the grass always greener?
My mother recalls that the first thing I ever planted was roses. Soon after, in our garden, I planted other types of flowers that were adequate for the Mediterranean climate.
I also planted vegetables. My grandma, Lume, taught me and my cousins how to divide the land into parcels and plant accordingly. So I did. I took care of potatoes, carrots, tomatoes, and strawberries.
I loved taking care of all types of plants. Keeping them healthy was an easy job given the climate. The climate and soil played essential supporting roles for the stars of the show — the plants.
As a gardener in the making, I always had an issue with the saying:
“The grass is not always greener on the other side.”
The phrase is commonly used to teach us to put away envy and dissatisfaction. It speaks of the importance of gratitude and the myth of the “perfect” life.
The Buddhists in me appreciates the sentiment.
However, I believe that the phrase is used too widely, and perhaps abused. It seems to me that sometimes it’s meant to keep people in line and prevent them from trying because what they may encounter may not be as good as what they already have.
Sometimes the grass is indeed greener. It’s not always a mirage.
If that’s the case, one should try to improve the conditions of this grass. There are so many factors that go into making the grass greener — it’s not just a matter of luck or magic. The greenness depends on the fertility of the soil, the amount of sunlight, and how much it rains or gets watered.
“The grass is greener where you water it” some people say.
Yes, indeed. If the conditions are optimal and only water is missing, water can do magic for the grass. But if you attempt to plant grass in the desert, it won’t grow.
In the desert, there are no chances of survival for the grass regardless of how much you water it. The soil is just not apt.
When I moved to Budapest, I bought three plants for my new office. One died. Perhaps because of a lack of water. Perhaps it was a lack of direct sunlight. The other two survived.
During the lockdown, I brought the two survivors home: the Peace Lily and the Dracaena plant. I wanted to take care of them.
For two years, the Peace Lily lived in the most shaded areas of my home. For years, it never bloomed. Eventually, the leaves became much smaller. The plant became unrecognizable, almost another species.
When I moved to Vienna, I placed the Peace Lily near the bedroom window where it gets morning sunlight.
Since then, it has bloomed several times. Occasionally several flowers bloom all at once. It brings me joy every time I see those white flowers.
The incident with the Peace Lily taught me that if my plants don’t bloom (and the soil is fertilized), I should move each to an area with the ideal sun/shade combination for that plant. I learned that some plants need more sun and some need more shade.
Plants in suboptimal conditions may not bloom, they transform into something else, or even die.
The phrase, “the grass isn’t always greener …”, warns against envy. It teaches us to be content and grateful, but it should not be used to discourage ambition or striving for better. Like most things in life, it’s about balance. Being appreciative of what we have doesn’t mean we should refrain from pursuing opportunities for growth.
And it’s important to remember not to let that grass die.
