I try to make time every Sunday for my little collection of orchids. I sit at the dining table in the morning with the sun pouring in and give each one a dose of water with a little orchid fertilizer.
I also examine them closely for the insidious scale that I can't seem to get rid of and scrape off each little turtle-backed invader. Occasionally a stink bug will be trying to hide between the petals and I become a ruthless exterminator.
Spending time looking closely at something is like a soothing meditation.
And the orchids reward me by re-blooming. Two of the small orchids were gifts from Ethan and Justin when I was incarcerated in the nursing home/rehab facility over a year ago and they're on their third bloom cycle. The yellow orchid is one I took to Claui in the hospital when Josie was born (it's spending the winter up here as their house is too chilly) and it's on its second cycle.
Of course, the sunny east-facing window, away from drafts and direct heat is a big factor in the orchid's thriving. As is the routine use of fertilizer (weekly, weakly.)
Still, I like to think it's at least partly due to our quiet and focused time together.
I suspect we would all bloom with similar attention.