I have always had a particular fondness for cacti. They seem to be quite sufficient unto themselves, needing only an occasional drink of water to sustain them. There ends their commonality as their ‘look’ is individual. Sometimes they are plush and juicy like the jade plant and sometimes they look like a ‘sticks of fire’ which is all angles and skinniness. A round barrel cactus? Well, if one is unconscious enough to allow an index finger to inadvertently alight on one of the quills…it is blood!!

One of the cacti I have in my home is, indeed, a barrel cactus. I have been bloodied on more than one occasion. It was during one of those ‘bloody’ moments when I had a revelation. While I could absolutely count on my cactus to bloody me, I dearly loved it. What if, I thought, I applied this concept to my relationships in a new and different way?

What did I do? I named my plants. I began the naming with the barrel cactus. It was christened with the name of a colleague whom I generally avoided. I considered her to be one of the prickliest people alive—sort of a caustic cleanser kind of person.

After the christening, I would say speak to each of my plants by name, on my way in or out of my home, and tell them how much I loved them. Oh my, such dissonance I felt, initially, calling my beautiful cactus by the name of a distressing colleague! The name caught in my throat on more than one occasion but I was stubborn and persistent.

My revelation turned out to be a good one….oh, yes it did!! There has been a softening in the interactions with this individual. Occasionally, I mistakenly touch a quill, or hot button if you will, and discover I’m a bit bloody. On the whole, it’s a brand new and invigorating relationship. Nevertheless, I have come to accept that prickly is as prickly does!!