“The Lost Art of Giving a Sh*t (And How Plants Can Teach You Again)”

Somewhere between work, doomscrolling, and reheating last night’s noodles, we stopped caring properly.

Not because we don’t want to — just because everything’s loud.

But when you care for something green — something alive — it whispers instead of screams.

And maybe that’s what most of us are missing.

The Slow Down Nobody Asked For

Plants don’t rush.

They don’t doomscroll.

They don’t chase likes.

They just… exist.

And the second you start paying attention to that — the way a leaf unfurls, the way roots twist through soil like tiny explorers — you realise how starved you’ve been for something real.

That’s the power of this hobby.

It’s not about décor. It’s about connection.

The Little Lives That Ground Us

When I started The Bearded Plantaholic, I thought I was just filling my house with plants.

Turns out, I was rebuilding my sanity — one leaf at a time.

Every cutting, every rescue, every propagation box — they’re all tiny reminders that attention is power.

And if you give something consistent care, it gives back. Always.

That’s why I built my Baby Boxes — not as products, but as starting points.

Little green commitments.

A way to practice caring again, one tiny rooted miracle at a time.

We Don’t Need More Stuff. We Need More Meaning.

You don’t need a thousand plants.

You need one you actually notice.

One that reminds you what growth looks like when it’s slow, imperfect, and real.

So whether it’s a rehabbed begonia from my last propagation marathon or one of the rooted cuttings from the next Baby Box drop — start small.

Start with one thing you’ll actually give a sht about*.

Closing

We’ve all forgotten how to slow down.

But your plants haven’t.

They’re still waiting — quietly, stubbornly — for you to remember how to care again.

The Lost Art of Giving a Sh*t starts there.

Reconnect with your next plant →

One love, tiny phone people.

— Jonny 🌿