Do you feel like you are watching so many things you love fall away?

Millions of art workers are uniting across the country here in the U.S. as the live entertainment industry has been at a complete standstill in most major markets since the beginning of the pandemic.  The effect has been devastating and they are not alone, with countless small businesses having to pack up and close their doors.

Do you find yourself looking at the state of the world right now and wondering,
What will survive?

Perhaps even your work has been deeply impacted.

And I can only imagine your heart has been crushed.

January began with such optimism and clarity.  I imagine you were so excited to take actions on your dreams.

You could see the bloom of your vision, alive, and even though you have experienced disappointment before, this year was going to be THE year.

Does this feel familiar?

As uncertainty reigns, how do we meet it and bring our dreams to life?
How do we overcome the disappointment and fear, when we feel the outside world just isn’t allowing our dreams to bloom?

And where do we access the confidence to continue in times of such adversity?

I love orchids.

I can’t remember a time in my life when I wasn’t just awestruck staring at their beauty.  The complexity of the flower with all the shapes and colors has been a place of great joy my whole life.

In both of my weddings, I had orchids.

Yet, I felt like I was hearing two stories on this flower.  It seemed half the people I knew did really well with orchids and had them bursting forth in their kitchens and living rooms.  The other half seemed to have a lot of trouble, and just said the orchid was temperamental.

I loved the flower so much, but really lacked the confidence around plants.  My mother was the green thumb, and I was convinced it had skipped a generation.  I did have some house plants in my 20’s. but half of them died.

I didn’t have a good track record with plants.

So, I was really nervous to buy an orchid.  So, I didn’t.  I just stared from afar, convinced I couldn’t care for it.

My first husband bought me an orchid plant in my 30’s as a gift because he knew how much I love them.  My first comment was,
Let’s see if can keep this alive

The orchid looked gorgeous for a few weeks.  Then the flowers fell off, the leaves turned, and the whole plant rotted.  I had even asked for help, and was misting the plant every day…..but it didn’t work.

I killed it.

I never bought another orchid plant again, and in the fall of 2018, I married my life partner.  It was the most amazing day, and my aunt and mother bought beautiful white orchid plants to have as centerpieces at the brunch.  I loved having them there again.

After the ceremony, my mother gave me one of the plants and set it up as a centerpiece in our home.  And here was the invitation to take care of an orchid again.

And the voice came back again,
Oh man…I hope I can keep this one alive!

Over the course of the next few weeks, I watched the plant start to fade, just as the one had before.  I even moved it, and asked for help again.  I tried everything I knew to revive it…..and finally had to throw it out.

More evidence that all I do is kill orchids.  I watched my mother’s, two of my aunts’, and my nanny’s orchids all thrive.  They sent me pictures and it felt like torture.

Why couldn’t I keep this plant I loved so much alive?

Have you ever felt that?
Something that matters so much just seems to wither and no matter how hard you try, it doesn’t respond?
Have you felt that way with your dreams?

Then, in June, I stared down at a positive pregnancy test.
It was the miracle I had been waiting 9 years for.
Suddenly, everything changed, and my husband and I were overcome with joy.

The flower we had both wanted so much was growing.

I found myself realizing I COULD be pregnant. 

My parents and aunt came to visit when I was around six weeks, and we all celebrated for this new life. 

While out shopping, we came across orchid plants, and my mother looked at me.  I knew what she was asking, and I thought…
Maybe I CAN keep an orchid plant alive.

So, a new plant came home and we put it in our kitchen window.

Then, I had a miscarriage, and everything stopped. The growing life within me ended, and my heart broke open in grief.

Over the past few weeks before I found out the heart had stopped beating, I had watched the orchid plant start to fade.  The leaves were turning a dark green, and going thin.  I knew this path, and had been hoping so much this plant wouldn’t die as well.

But, when I found out about the death of my baby, it almost felt prophetic. And I gave up.

This orchid wasn’t meant to live, just like our child.

Then, the day before the procedure to complete the miscarriage, the doorbell rang.  I opened the door to see a gorgeous large white orchid plant sitting there.  Sent by my dear friend, Bex, as a condolence, I burst into tears.

Here again this stunning beauty, and I could feel the fear coming up around not being able to keep it alive, and then I looked at the other orchid plant, withering in the window and made a decision.

A decision to try again.

A few days after the miscarriage procedure, I was feeling very fragile and tender.  I looked at the withering orchid plant, and wanted to give it a new lease on life.

Because the one thing I had NOT done with the other two orchid plants, was completely re-pot them.  My mother had encouraged me to watch a youtube video on how to do it, but I was feeling so uncertain and insecure, I really wanted her guidance with me as I tried it.

So, we Facetimed, and the surgery began.

I took the plant out of the pot, and it was completely moss bound and dried out.  I wasn’t even sure if it could be revived, but I was going to see this though. Slowly removing the dried out covering over the roots was shocking.  I saw for the first time, the roots of the orchid were actually reed thin….delicate.  I felt as I was exposing the roots, I was also exposing the same sensitivity within me.

After the moss was removed, I filled the pot with bark, and gently laid the orchid within.  My mother instructed me on how to give it a 15 minute “bath” and encouraged me to talk to it the whole time.

Then, I placed it on the kitchen table next to the new orchid plant, and went to bed.  Either it was going to survive the transfer or not, but at least I had tried something new to keep it alive.

And before I went to bed, I placed gold lettering at the base of the orchid that simply read,

The next day it was still alive.
And the next.

And the following week I noticed something amazing.
A bud.
Then two, then three.

The first bud grew and I watched as the leaves each slowly unfolded.
And then opened.

Apparently I could keep an orchid plant alive.
Even in the midst of deep pain, loss, and adversity.

I just needed to try again and try something new.

What have you felt in your life you can’t keep alive?
What has been that burning passion, the beauty you have always been drawn to your whole life that just hasn’t worked out the way you want?

What if you were actually fully capable of bringing it TO life?

What if you no longer had to watch others thrive, and you could enjoy the same?

When I think back on my journey with the orchid, I really began with passion and love, but very quickly fell into a limiting belief that I “wasn’t good with plants”.

I would negate my attraction to the orchids, and feel it was just something to look at and hear other people’s success stories, but I decided I couldn’t do it.

This is always the first place to start.

What do you believe?
What have you been telling yourself or how loud have you allowed your inner critic to become to derail you from what’s most important?

Then, when I did have an orchid, the truth was, I didn’t know how to take care of it.  I had limited knowledge, and didn’t ask for the help needed to really care for the orchid.

It was actually the third orchid that finally woke me up to the fact that orchids don’t like wet feet.  In the wild, they actually grow in the air.  It’s been western culture that has shoved them into moss filled pots for quick transport that has ruined so many.

There is actually a woman who has made it her life mission to go to stores, buy up their orchid plants, and re-pot them in bark so they can survive.

The answer was always there for how to bring this flower to life for me, I just was putting more energy on my limiting belief, instead of allowing myself to be a student.

So, what about you?

Do you know how to care for your dream?
Do you know the conditions it needs, and the steps and structure that will allow it to grow?

As so many of my clients say when they come to me,
I know what my dream is, I just don’t know HOW to make it happen!

And the first thing we do is clear their limiting beliefs, and the second is to create a plan for how to nourish what’s most important.

Because seeing our dreams come to life is a healing balm.

Watching the orchid come back from almost death as I have been healing from my miscarriage has been very powerful.

It’s been deeply inspiring.

All three of the leaves have gone from a sickly purple to a dark green.

The plant is in recovery, as am I.

As are you.

Connect back to your spark.
Ask for help.
Clear your limiting beliefs.
And get clear on what your dreams need.

It may surprise you what your delicate roots actually thrive in.

When you release the dry moss that has kept you choked, the water will flow again.
This is your power. This is where your confidence lies.

Watch it bloom.

©2019 NikolRogers | Design by Rachel Pesso | Caitlin Cannon Photography