At the time of purchasing my first house, I never thought of turning it into a Plant Temple. I didn’t have a single plant, so there was no reason to think that I would one day have over 200 hundred living within my walls.
But I was given some house plants as a housewarming gift and came to appreciate the way they brightened my space as well as how I enjoyed watching them grow. In March of 2020, the school I worked at shut down, giving me the opportunity for the first time to enjoy time in my house. At the same time, I found notoriety online for my love of plants and gardening online. I started adding plants to my collection, placing vines and stalks and succulents on shelves, windowsills, and plant stands.
With each plant brought into my care, my responsibilities grew, but I considered the observing, watering, and trimming labors of love. I welcomed the work of learning how to care for the dozens of indoor plants in my collection. As new leaves unfurled, I felt proud that I successfully supported their growth. As others declined, I adjusted my care and found ways to keep their spark of life alive.
From 2014-2020, my house went from 16 houseplants (the original gifts) to 9 (I could not keep all of the originals alive) to around 100.
In 2021, I left the school, my business took off, and I wrote my first book. Every time my wife and I visited a grocery store, home improvement store, or department store, she commented that I always stuck a plant into our cart.
“Another plant?” She’d ask. “Do you know where you’re going to put this one?”
Dozens of plants later, she went to grab something from one of our work supply tables.
“Marcus!” Her voice sounded through the house. “I love you, but this is getting ridiculous!” I came over to find her looking at the plant I’d set on the table after we returned from our errands. “I don’t want to move a plant every time I need a hard drive or notebook.”
I assured her there was a Plan for the plant madness, and she relented.
“As long as the space stays functional for our necessary everyday activities.” She noted. And I proceeded to place that particular plant in a new home.
I had a vision. I couldn’t explain it, but I watched it take shape with each new plant and propagation. Seven years after I received the original 16 houseplants, I looked around at my 200 additional green companions and found my vision achieved: I’d created a Temple, a place that would support my peace, balance, and harmony, foster growth, and promote healing.
Now we are surrounding by green; vines trail down cabinets and curtain rods, vines grow up my windows, staked with suction cups, giant philodendron leaves bring life to every corner, and various colors, shapes, and textures of the plant world give us something different to look at everywhere we turn.
I didn’t anticipate the range of my temple's effects. It’s one thing to appreciate sheer beauty, but another for the air to have a distinct crispness that is noticeable upon walking through the front door. This space offers its benefits to anyone who is present, and I’ve seen the deep breath of peace that everyone - friends, family, house maintenance workers - take upon entering.
I think there is a need for more places designed to promote peace, balance, harmony, and healing, and this can occur to varying degrees. Of course, more Plant Temples like my own would be wonderful, but if we can use the Plant Temple as inspiration to bring plants into schools, offices, hospitals, etc, I am certain we’ll see positive changes to the increasing rates of depression and anxiety ailing society.
To the designers of tomorrow (including but not limited to my readers, architects, interior designers, craftsmen, engineers, and office administrators) who cross this piece, let’s work together to consider how we can design a better future, one where every structure and system is built with peace, balance, and harmony in mind. And know that I am here as a resource.