We often admire plants for their beauty or simplicity — but beyond their silence, they hold lessons for how we grow, adapt, and survive. Here are five things they reminded me of this week.

1. Being in the right place.

I had a moment this week. It was a tiny thing. I noticed Calathea’s lifeless leaves and put it in another room. In less than 24 hours, I could see the a very tiny flower coming to life. It seemed to like the other room better. Plants can only be happy in a favourable environment. Could that be true for us?

Nevertheless, moving from one place to another may cause anxiety and risk. But at some point, if the time has come when we have to leave, like my plant in my room… That’s where it’s critical because it can get worse and worse.

2. Am I getting good enough water and sun?

The phrase “good enough,” coined by Donald Winnicott, refers to a supportive environment for children’s growth. It’s not about being perfect, but about providing a safe space for their development. Plants embody this principle beautifully. They don’t need perfect conditions to grow, just decent ones: enough light, water, and space. Too much care can drown them; too little, and they wither. If you give a plant too much water, it rots. Growth in plants and people doesn’t come from perfect conditions. Instead, it thrives in environments that encourage adaptation, resilience, and gradual development. We need sufficient resources to grow and develop. You can think of this for your workplace or your relationship. Think about it now as you read this article. Are you getting your resources? If not, how can you get them? Of course, you must trust the soil, but it is important to remember that not every plant will grow everywhere.

Plants require special care. I don’t know what kind of plant you are.

3. The question of rooting.

Some plants are held by their roots, while others — like carrots and potatoes — are roots themselves. They cling to the soil but we can separate them if necessary. The plant forms a relationship, but it can also shed the leaf. The loss of the leaf does not lead to a loss of identity, of self. It also relates to light by turning towards it from time to time and transforming it in an aesthetic way. It does not turn into light itself; it responds to it. It is a way to adapt. The plants’ adaptation skills are amazing. They don’t judge; they just accept and adapt their leaves, waiting for the winter to pass.

4. Plants are silent.

In psychoanalysis, especially in the Lacanian tradition, language shapes the subject. Plants, unlike humans, do not engage with language, yet they respond symbolically to light, loss, and space. They focus on what supports them and let go of what does not help anymore. They do this without guilt or holding back. In this sense, they mirror the unconscious: always moving, adjusting, often unseen. Like dreams, they grow in silence, they do not speak their truth but live it.

Plants are always a beautiful source of inspiration.