Yesterday I came home to find the stem of one of my sprouts snapped. It appeared that the leaves had gotten too heavy for the stem. I felt crushed; I thought it was essentially dead.
See? I thought. This was why things shouldn’t be brought into existence. I’d lamented before about the sprouts’ sudden appearance, about how, now that they existed, they could get hurt. And here was proof, in my dangling broken plant.
Some time after waking this morning, I thought about my plant. Perhaps it could be fixed. I had an idea of how, but decided to look on the web, and it appeared that tape was a solution. And so I got up to put tape around the broken section of the stem and, for extra support, placed it back into the giant bottle I’d transferred it to after finding it broken the previous day.
I’d hoped I would become less sensitive as I drank my special tea, but, given how I felt about the plant, it’s like the opposite has happened. On the other hand, it’s reassuring that I’m still the same person, that I have these enduring qualities, that perhaps these qualities are becoming or have become even more intensified. I’d often thank people for caring, being aware that it could be difficult to do so when it can hurt—a reason I’ve not wanted to care. Despite the pain that can result, though, caring helps beings and makes the world better.
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