Little Ms. Orchid

The little gal herself, in (slightly) better days

My friend Julie brought me a sweet birthday gift in December: a small orchid plant. Jaunty purple blossoms, glossy green leaves, in a tiny black and white striped ceramic pot—what a thoughtful present! And how motivating! I vowed I would surround my new orchid with beauty and peace! It would perch on a sleek new desk from IKEA, presiding over my leather sofa (which would be magically, and permanently, de-cluttered), my re-organized and sorted bookshelves, and the striking wall hanging I would create from my cross collection (which currently sprawled all across my work surface). Like the mustard seed of Scripture, this tiny little orchid gave me great big faith—I could build a Martha Stewart life! Wouldn’t the folks who pass through my office en route to the sacristy be amazed? It would be like walking through a Zen garden!

I had no time during the hectic holiday season to clean or rearrange anything, so Little Ms. Orchid remained the one tidy and beautiful thing in my office. I watered her carefully (one ice cube per week, as recommended) and promised that she would soon be the focal point of a lovely room. As the weeks went on, she began to shed her lavender flowers, slowly but surely. Oh dear! Were my ice cubes too cold? Was she getting enough light? My expectation that she would generate new blooms was quickly dashed—apparently, while orchid flowers last quite a while, once they die, the plant often doesn’t ever blossom again.

January was gray and blustery, but I remained hopeful. My friend Sally spent her day off helping me clean the closets, and I was briefly buoyed. But within two weeks, I was kicking my way through the mess on the floor left by the MLK Day of Service projects (boxes of stuffed plush bunnies, bags of homemade peppermint bark, piles of colorful fleece scarves—all bound for one charity or the other—eventually). I put in my request for new furniture and was approved. As soon as I knew that new stuff was coming, my current surroundings looked instantly 1000% shabbier. How had I lived 17 years with this ugly desk—which was a hand-me-down even back in 2002? Rusty metal file drawers that stood empty (I have everything on the computer and rarely keep paper files anymore), zero artwork on the walls…suddenly intolerable!

But it seems I CAN still tolerate it all, because nothing has changed. An echo of the sad state of things, Ms. Orchid is down to one solitary bloom (and that one ain’t looking too healthy). How to cheer my small symbol of hope? If Marie Kondo can chat with her belongings, I can as well! “Stay strong, my dear!” I whisper to my bedraggled little plant. “IKEA delivery is coming! Your home will soon be a showplace, and nothing will ever mar its perfection again!!”

And then, I get my reply. The final purple flower droops, about to flutter to the table.

Sigh.

Martha would be appalled...