I started buying houseplants about four years ago. I bought two from the grocery store and promptly killed one. I think I overwatered it. Or maybe it got infested by some tiny plant killers. I don’t know. To be honest, I didn’t try very hard to save it. I wanted my apartment to have that green leafy look but I didn’t want to sink time and effort into research.

Apart from that early casualty, my approach of low involvement has worked pretty well. The second plant – a lemon-lime dracaena – has thrived. I’ve repotted it multiple times and it stands today at a height two or three times the original. I’m somewhat proud of it. Some of its leaves are browned with decay for some reason I’ve neglected to investigate, but it lives on, nonetheless.

Every now and then I get the motivation to watch YouTube videos to learn how to perform certain tasks of plant care. The people who make these videos tend to chat at the camera for a while, stroking and poking their plants as they slowly approach the subject at hand. I often watch these videos impatiently and jump forward until I find the bits of information I need. I find it difficult to enjoy the process. I just want to get the task done as quickly as possible.

It’s a funny thing to find yourself resentfully doing chores that you’ve created for yourself. Nobody and no thing requires that I have plants in my home, and yet I have several. Five in the bedroom, one in the living room, three in the kitchen, one in the bathroom, and seven in the office. Most of them I planted myself, from propagated snippings of plants I bought.

At this point, their upkeep outranks the pleasure they give me. The list above doesn’t amount to twenty in number, but it also doesn’t include my biggest and oldest plants, which are back in my apartment in Seattle. There I have my lemon-lime dracaena, a sizeable monstera, a growing ficus, a tentacled pothos, and several other smaller plants. Watering plants is a surprisingly effortful task, especially when you have to water many all at once. Some demand that I stand on tip toes and hold my arm extended and rigid overhead to let a stream of water arc into the pot. For others, I do a mini deadlift and lug their fragile figures to the tub. Any spills I mop up on my hands and knees. A long way from lounging on the couch and enjoying my living room.

For a long time I accumulated plants and grew them with the aim of making my living room lush with leafy green. And eventually, I realized the vision. And I loved it. But, as is often the case, the happily ever after is a lot more tedious than a vision of a frozen future suggests.

I am living a weird life. It isn’t one I dreamed up for myself, but one that has developed bit by bit over the years from the conditions imposed on me by life. Enviously I’ve held onto everything in my grasp and years later I find myself sprawled across two cities across two countries, in two apartments overrun by plants. Abundance enriches just as it encumbers. I think it’s time to lighten the burdens I’ve put upon myself.