To embark on writing a full-length novel (80,000 to 90,000 words) demands a long-term commitment that may take several years. Happy the writer who can complete such a project in one to two years! As with my first two novels, I estimated a four-year period for the completion of my creative nonfiction work-in-progress. Since writing the first draft in 2020, I had planned for revision and publication in 2024. Sad to say, things didn’t go according to my goal. Due to both personal and external forces, shared with readers over the past four years, my focus stalled (writer’s block), wavered, and changed.

The unrelenting violence against the Palestinians in Gaza, especially the children, continue to disturb my sleep. Only a god created in men’s image of oppression, conquest, and colonization would sanction such violence against humanity.

Even more consequential is humankind’s ongoing violence inflicted on the Web of Life together with the interconnected atmospheric and oceanic systems that sustain all lifeforms, including our own, on Mother Earth.

Since change must begin with me, I’ve spent the past year pursuing the shift in being and doing, essential for reconnecting with Mother Earth and reducing my negative impacts on her Web of Life. I work at consuming only what is essential for my good health and well-being. As an urban dweller, I connect with Mother Earth through the creation and maintenance of a succulent garden in the courtyard of the rental apartment complex where I live.

The amazing thing about trees and plants is that they grow, produce, reproduce, and purify our air with oxygen without making a fuss or fanfare. They’re simply present. Caring for my succulent and other plants has taught me to just be. In quieting my mind, I have become more present to others around me, as well as my collective American and global families.

Plants, too, have specific needs—light, water, and soil type—for their well-being. Some also require more space than others: a luxury in our small garden plots. Such was the case with the dragon fruit cactus, introduced by a new, next-door neighbor (hereafter called Sonny) over two years ago. I wasn’t familiar with this succulent and had no idea that it produced an edible fruit (see photo below). Sonny told me that it required a lot of space and trellis for climbing. Oh-oh.

The small cutting proved to be quite tough. Once transferred to its current large pot, Baby Dragon began spreading its limbs in all directions…without any form of symmetry. How ugly! I looked on with quiet disapproval as it invaded the space of the neighboring plants. With Sonny’s approval, I relocated it to the spot shown in the captioned photo, expecting that the trunk of the tree would serve as a trellis. Not so.

In early summer 2024, when Sonny told me that he was getting married and would be moving, I asked him to take the dragon fruit cactus. No such luck. His new home had no space for the sprawling cactus. For the same reason, I clipped all the excessive growth at its numerous joints, transforming it into the more acceptable shape shown in the photos below.

Then the unexpected happened. Sometime in September, a tiny bud appeared on one of its limbs. I watched it grow with curiosity. The photos below show the growth of the bud on Saturday, October 12th.  

The following Friday morning on October 18th, I checked on the mature dragon fruit cactus, visible from my dining room window. Surprise! I rushed outside for a closer look. How exquisite! Without pollinators so late in autumn, the blossom collapsed the next day. An online search revealed that one day was normal behavior. What confidence!

Since that day, I enjoy an accepting and happy relationship with the unruly dragon fruit cactus. Lesson learned. I lose out when I judge others by their outward appearance or different way of being. I miss the chance to experience their inner beauty or share the special gift they bring to our world.

I thank each one of you for the special gift you also bring to my life. Without you, 2024 would’ve been filled only with grief at losing my best friend in Brazil on February 1st (pictured on the left in the photo below). Later, during spring and summer, I lost face-to-face contact with two close friends and neighbors who moved out for better opportunities. Having my Facebook Account suspended in August added to curtailing contact with distant relatives and friends.

My loss is nothing compared to the indiscriminate killing and destruction families face in war-torn regions of our world. I have not the political power to end violence and war. I can only do what is within my power to hold them close to my heart and to support non-profit organizations working to alleviate their suffering on the front-lines.