Purple Passion Plant

A few months ago, I moved my purple passion plants to the sunniest window in our house. Peeking over my laptop screen, they make me happy.

Purple has always been my favorite color (In grade school I was known as the Purple Phantom.). I kept a purple passion plant in my dorm room in college. I love the deep purple fur on the dark green leaves. The deep purple intensifies in strong sunlight.

In 2003, I ended up in a locked psychiatric unit. When I returned to sanity, I attended group therapy sessions in a dayroom with a small greenhouse. I came home with cuttings from a purple passion plant and a saintpaulia, a type of African violet, with small downy leaves and lavender flowers.

As I put these little purple houseplants in a sunny window, and watered and pruned them, they reminded me to nurture myself. Keeping them alive symbolized my pledge to do the hard work of healing my mind.

Somewhere along the way, the saintpaulia died. I neglected it a little too long one too many times. The purple passion plant is hardier. Even when the main plant is neglected, I’ve been able to preserve a few tender tips and grow a new plant. Some mistakes in life come with a second chance.

A few months ago, Jim received a bonsai tree. We kept it near a window in our kitchen, but the new leaves came in progressively bigger and paler. I learned that large leaves are a symptom of light starvation. I moved the tiny tree to a sunny window. As it recovered, I gradually trimmed off the larger leaves. New leaves came in, tiny, shiny, and dark green.

My plants and I can survive neglect, but to be vibrant, intense, and truly alive takes care.