The Plant Hanger

The black plant hanger droops toward the floor. It looks sullen that it doesn’t contain a plant. I never thought a plant hanger could look sad. In fact I’ve never thought about a plant hanger having emotions at all. That is one thing we humans assume. Objects like plant hangers don’t have emotion. Makes me wonder if Lewis Carroll thought about that when writing Alice in Wonderland. Maybe that inspired him.

The lesson is to always be curious.

Back to that darn plant hanger. It’s still drooping. I wonder what plant it would like to hold, if it had wants that is. If it were in Alice in Wonderland what would it say? My mind goes down the rabbit hole to think about that world. I think the plant holder would be sad when I addressed it as a plant holder and would say “I’m not a plant holder at all.” “What are you then?” “I’m a work of art, a knitted black string fit for carrying anything you would like, in style.”

The plant holder would go on to say that someone once hung it up and declared it a plant holder, now it never moves from its spot. The plant holder is sad because it should be traversing continents on the back of an exuberant twenty-something, carrying their flip flops on the way to the beautiful beaches of Thailand. Instead, it’s in an undersized kitchen on North Wales Road, confined to drooping and not moving.

The tale of the plant hanger forces my mind into mulling over the idea of not being boxed in. I can be whatever I want to be, I just have to commit. Refuse the box from others. Don’t let the pressures of the outside world put chains on my mind.