I have two plants in my office. They’re those wonderfully air cleaning and nearly indestructible plants called pothos. They’re a beautiful emerald color with splashes of yellow, but one has a far more golden look to its leaves. Since they are both green, I’ve named them Eggs and Ham; Eggs is the one with the majority of the yellow, naturally.
I named them about a month ago (yes, it was a slow day). At first I was pondering giving them normal names, like Hank and Gary. Mavis and Mable. Maybe even Mary Kate and Ashley, being that they can seemingly survive on little more than water.
Then I wondered whether I should embrace their green-ness and lean into things a bit more. Lantern and Hornet? Bax and Day? Tea and Bay?
None of the options really inspired me.
Then, when I saw a tribute online to Theodor Seuss Geisel on the anniversary of his death this last September, it hit me. You can’t really go wrong with Dr. Seuss, so Eggs and Ham were born. Or reborn. Whatever.
There are some authors whose works have an inherent childlike quality about them – a quality that defies the years, and that we can pull from whenever we need a dose of whimsy.
Whimsy, in my opinion, is underappreciated. Quite frankly, I think it should count as a food group, if you will, because it can nourish the spirit in ways that the day-to-day cannot.
The day-to-day drags us down. Whimsy lifts us up.
The day-to-day tells us to level off and fly right. Whimsy encourages aerial acrobatics.
The day-to-day can feel as heavy as an anvil. Whimsy rivals the weight of a feather.
Eggs and Ham have inspired many an odd look when passersby learn of each plant’s moniker, but the odd look is always followed by a smile. Thus, whimsy has been incorporated into the workday, and a little dose never hurt anyone. If anything, it can do wonders for the rest of the afternoon. It does for me.
Today I am thankful for whimsy, for imagination and for those before us who have given their magic. Bestowing it upon my two office pothos may not be what was ever intended, but the magic remains intact, and the stories live on in one of the most unlikely of places.