At one point in time, Allister had a potted plant on his outside windowsill. The plant belonged to the clay pot. The clay pot belonged on the windowsill. The windowsill belonged to Allister’s apartment. Allister’s apartment belonged to the fiftth floor and the fifth floor belonged to a Brownstone building that belonged to his landlord. Allister was sure the landlord belonged to someone, too, but he didn’t pry any further.

And Allister loved the potted plant. His feeling was that strong. Oh, not at first, but eventually, he really did love the plant. It was deeply green, leafy and had yet to flower in the two years that Allister first set it on his windowsill. At that point, it barely belonged to Allister. He wasn’t even sure if he’d keep it for an entire week. He just wanted a change and a potted plant on his windowsill seemed like a good start. So, Allister opened the window, set the potted plant on the sill and watered it. The next day, he watered it again. The next day, the same thing. Each day, he wondered what the flower would look like. And, every day of that first year he’d repeat the sequence (open window, water, wonder) until, one day, he stopped wondering what the flower would look like. There was no sadness, no regret. The wonder had just been subtly overcome by an understanding.

Some would say, during that time, Allister needed that potted plant. In fact, Allister would say, during that time, he needed that potted plant. Allister had said one too many goodbyes, had felt two to many structural breaks and had swallowed more than three times his share of the world’s bitterness. He had taken all the advice he could handle, had looked into his past and his future and was left feeling like he didn’t know where he belonged in the present. And he felt that all-encompassing kind of alone encroaching where you don’t know how to reach anyone and you don’t want anyone to reach you. So, he watered his green, leafy plant. He needed to appreciate it and he needed the feeling that it appreciated him.

Then, one day, he accidentally broke the sequence. He opened the window, watered the plant and, misguiding his pull back, nudged the pot just a bit. But, that bit was just enough to unsettle the pot and shift its weight over the edge of the sill and fell…

(and, in those fleeting moments as the plant feel, Allister had rapid fire thoughts.)

…down one story…

(he began praying to…oh, he didn’t know who to pray to…he hated the bidding war between all deities and followers…he didn’t feel entirely connected to any of them…)

…down two stories…

(it was silly…it was just a plant…but, it was his plant…he could get a new plant…he didn’t want a new plant…he wanted his plant…)

…down three stories…

(so, he prayed to something he felt connected to…he didn’t know what it was…he didn’t know if it had a name…he didn’t even use words…at that moment, he just suddenly felt part of it...)

…and the pot suddenly took all of the weight from the plant. In its tumble, the plant released itself from the pot. And, while the pot fell down to the pavement and shattered to pieces, the plant hung in the air weightless. And it stayed there. Dirt rained down from the roots and left the plant bare and exposed and Allister saw the leaves begin to wilt in the slightest bit of slightness. He quickly refilled the watering can and sprinkled water down from his fifth story window to his third story plant.

And, so it went. Over time, with Allister’s water, the plants roots reached down and found some bare pieces of Earth to dig into. And its stem, leafy and green as ever, raised higher and higher up extending way beyond sight.
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At first, Allister wondered if the plant would finally flower way at the top. But, gradually, the wonder was subtly overcome by an understanding and Allister found his way back out into the world again.