Lilies and Hostas… How Does Your Friendship Garden Grow?

 I love my flower beds. I love the chaotic mix of colours, the texture and hues of foliage. I love that all of my plants are unique to me even if they are common in variety and species. 

I plant each plant with care, mindful of light and water conditions. I give each one of them a good start, mixing in regular soil with sea soil (or worm poop), watering them in with root boost. I do everything possible to give them each the best chance to grow and thrive.

Sometimes though, they don’t make it. Reasons for that vary from environmental factors to simply the roots not being strong enough to catch and survive. Sometimes they don’t survive because of multiple transplanting which leaves them confused as their roots struggle to adapt and adjust to their new conditions. Sometimes it’s diseases. And sometimes,  it’s simply neglect- not intentional- but neglect that comes from being tucked away and forgotten. 

There are, I admit, plants in my garden that I treasure a bit more. Oh I love all of my plants but I admit that I do not love them equally. I LOVE my lilies more than my hostas. My lilies need extra nurturing, extra care. They need pest control for that scourge red lily beetle. They like to be watered regularly, composted, staked and mulched. And I do it all happily because the reward is spectacular blooms. I have my lilies planted in places that I see them often, notice them more. I look forward to each spring when they come out of the soil because I know the joy they bring me. 

My hostas…I love my hostas as well but I do not cherish them like my lilies. My hostas are background plants in my beds, beautiful for who they are, unique in their own way. They do not require much extra care- a little compost at the start of the season, watering when I remember. They rarely complain- sturdy and dependable they live in the shade, happy to be noticed occasionally, glad to be included. My lilies, faces looking skyward to the sun, will be the plants I gravitate to while my hostas will probably always be a second thought. 

I used a less detailed version of this theory with a friend not long ago. I clumsily attempted to draw an analogy between friendships and plants. My point - and I did and do have one- was that while all friendships are appreciated, the reality is that there are simply some that are treasured more. Like plants. 

I think we’d all like to be treasured plants in all the gardens of our friends. I would. But that’s not reality. Reality is that in some gardens we are hostas. It’s not a bad thing by any means, it simply means our friendship in that life is not at the forefront. 

The conversation that sparked my realization was about spending time with our friends and gifts - or gestures- from the heart. Insightful exchanges were made and then, after our conversation was done, I committed to the sin of comparison. Comparison is the thief of joy, is it not? I thought of my clumsy attempts to be a treasured friend to this particular individual and felt foolish. After much reflection I realized the friendship isn’t the problem, it’s knowing my place in it. 

In this particular garden, I’m a hosta. Appreciated and valued but not treasured. Loved but not loved equally. And that, I began to realize, was more than ok because I can only be me. Accepting my place would free me from comparison, free me from expectations. But it also left me with this question - if I’m a hosta in the garden of this friend and I see this person as a lily, how do I feel about the imbalance? Does it matter to me? Will it matter? 

Each person curates their own friendship garden so is it reasonable to expect that friendships are valued equally? 

This friend and I had a small hiatus which gave me time to think. The first thing I did was remove expectations of being treated like other friends and appreciate the uniqueness of our friendship. The next thing I did was ask myself if I was “good” being a hosta - am I strong and sturdy enough- secure enough- to enjoy this friendship from a place where it isn’t nurtured with extra care and attention? Or do I need to be treasured, nurtured?  Do I transplant this friendship in my garden so it matches in both our gardens? 

I’ve made the decision any good gardener would make - if a plant isn’t thriving to its capacity, change the growing conditions. It doesn’t have to be dramatic, little changes can make a difference too. And so I’ve begun those changes. I’m more sparing with my words and with initiating communication - something I didn’t do in the past. Not all replies have to be long. Not all communication has to be frequent. I’ve been guilty of being both wordy and constant. If the time that is spent connecting is quality time then there is still care in the garden. 

The last thing I need to remember is that the garden is only as good as the gardener. All the tenderness, thoughtfulness and love that are needed to make plants flourish are what is needed to make people flourish too regardless of where you are in garden. My friendships need to be free of choking weeds and treated with love, support and kindness. I need to remember that little things - gestures from the heart and thoughtful words- need to be sprinkled throughout. Even though I, too, will have friends that are “lilies” my “hosta” friends need to be nurtured as well. 

It’s time to quit wondering about my place in people’s gardens and focus on growing and maintaining mine.