Advance: you’ve most likely heard of people talking to plants, do you think they have a psychological issue? You’ve also—most likely—if you’ve watched plants, see physically they respond to heat, water, cold, the elements; if you watch them closer you will also see they have (moods), or better put, they are sensitive, and if you are sensitive, and a tinge, patient, and open minded, and observant you may come to the question, “How can this be?” Even some gardens grow better with certain people. I am no a gardener, but I am sensitive, and when I leave my garden I’ve learned not to allow anyone to touch it besides watering it. I may leave anywhere between a month to a year. When I get back from the trip, folks tell me the garden is dying, or wild looking, all sorts of things. I tell them, it will be fine in a few days, and it always is. My wife is a better gardener than I, but I do believe the garden grows because of the connection it has with me, its soul; now for the premise of the article.
The Soul: Plants, or flowers, or whatever flora life you want to select, have, like anything else in the universe, a quest in life, a purpose, a goal. Inside their soul they know this. Most of the soul within the plant, or flower is passive. It dies within its shell, leaving its residue there, but gives offspring, which in that category, it lives on, and it takes the inherited residue from its parent. ((We have here of course religion, psychology and philosophy mixed with metaphysic)(origin and structure of the Universe)) together, so be patient please with this article, if you think it is of no value, just press ‘eyes close’ don’t read if it may frustrate you; but I will try to be up-front in how I feel about this subject.)
The ant and moth have a purpose, even the stone, or rocks have a purpose. We are not little gods, lest you think you are, and above everything God has created: they maybe our gifts but not to be taken lightly. Anyhow, as I was about to say, within these plants, there is something eating within its roots, just like hemlock in certain plants. This substance, a form of God’s art, imitates reality, it can not reason like a human, but it can imitate: to a point of almost imprinting, blindly (or following blindly, or sensitively.)
Let me take this one step further, the word is called, the essence, the soul of the plant (organism or life form), it also can be called the nutritive (the nourishing part within the shell of the plant), this nutritive, soul, or essence, has reproductive power, as I have previous mentioned—a sensitive and locomotive power (in man it is the reason, and thought). A plant cannot exist without its soul, as neither can an animal nor man; it is the glue, which forms the shape. On the other hand, the soul has its own body, within its form or shape of the body around it.
So you see, when I return to the plants after a long period, it has already molded within its essence, sensitivity to me, and its reproductive power has planted the same, in the form of its residue into its children.
I shall take this even a step further, which I was not going to but perhaps it may help the reader. I have talked briefly about molding, and so let me go into it bit more. In comparison, I shall use man, he has for the most part, freedom of the will. Plants have what we call, association, they cannot will to be different than what they are, but in part, they can choose to live or die in their environment. And this molds the character for the next generation. Man can select, or pick his friends, books or amusements, even occupations, plants can’t, but they can form habits adapt, or chose to die, almost to a psychical point.
Well, this is my point of view, it is not necessarily others, but be that as it may, if it makes sense to you, then I have given you something that makes you happy, and thus, makes me happy. Let me point out one last thing here before I end this article. I had two trees in my garden, two Papaya trees in Lima, my father in law, brought them from the jungle to live here with us. One was a male the other female. They both grew from a foot tall, to twenty feet tall, and the female gave much fruit, when the female died (it lower torso got eaten up by bugs), perhaps a horrific trauma for the other tree, it slowly died. It could not, or would not, or did not want to, survive without the other; if it had a will, it willed itself to death, but I think what took place was it had no longer the sensitivity, or love of the other, my caring for it perhaps allowed it to live a while longer, but like my mother said before she died, “I’m ready, who wants to live like this.”