Growing deep roots in a fast-paced world

I have a plant named Peter Parker. Yes, named after Spider Man because the plant is a … spider plant. These plants are common house plants and get their name because of their spiderette offsets that look like arachnids. 

The other night, I was transitioning Peter Parker to his winter home in my kitchen, and I was struck by the abundance of this plant. Peter first came to live with me when I took a spiderette from the plant at my parent’s house — a plant they inherited from my grandmother. That small offspring has turned into four massive plants with their own spiderettes and a few smaller plants. Peter and their offspring sit on some shelving during the winter months and transform my kitchen into a jungle. 

The resilience of these plants amazes me. They have outlasted my neglect, my under watering, my overwatering, and aphid invasions. We have come close to losing Peter, but Peter is hardy. More than that, Peter lives in abundance. And has done so through many years of my learning and plant mom fails. 

In many ways, this spider plant has served as a teacher for me. It withstands my anxiety and divided attention, it has caused me to learn plant care techniques, and it continues to grow: slow and steady while the world moves quickly around it.  

As we wrap up 2025 and look ahead to 2026, I hope I can be as constant as this common house plant. I know my anxiety can play tricks on my mind. I know I worry about things out of my control. And I research and over plan from time to time. But if this plant has taught me anything, it is that change and life happen in the mundane. 

There might be moments of large growth that are visible from one day to the next, but there is also something to be said for the small, consistent, steady growth that happens — the kind that might not be as visible to the outside world. 

Sometimes it is the slow and steady progress that matters most.

In a world full of progress and comparison, slow growth is countercultural. In a world that gets wrapped up with the end-of-the-year success stories and lists of what we all accomplished — sometimes it is the slow and steady progress that matters most. For the small gains are what helps build deep and sustaining roots. This is not just surface level growth, but the kind that sparks abundance and resiliency. 

I am not sure what 2026 will hold, but I hope I can walk into the new year with an appreciation for the slow growth of my life. I hope I can develop deep and sustaining roots so I can act out of abundance and resiliency. I hope I can look back on 2026 and see the treasure brought forth by the small, day-to-day journey. 

There is a good chance I will overwater or underwater Peter this coming year. I am sure I will have to fight off some sort of bug attacking Peter’s roots. And I am sure I will feel like a plant mom failure again at some point in 2026. But I hope I can remember this moment in my kitchen. Progress isn’t always photo worthy, but day-to-day care and growth makes a lasting impact.