Desire Isn’t Dead — It’s Dormant
Desire Isn’t Dead — It’s Dormant
Reclaiming Want, Pleasure, and Aliveness Without Shame
Desire is often treated like a switch.
On or off.
Present or gone.
Healthy or broken.
So, when desire quiets emotionally, physically, sexually — many people panic.
What’s wrong with me?
Why don’t I feel it anymore?
Did I lose something essential?
But nature doesn’t operate in binaries.
Nothing blooms all the time.
Sometimes desire doesn’t disappear.
It goes dormant.
Dormancy Is Not Failure
Perennials retreat underground during cold seasons.
Bulbs rest beneath frozen soil.
Trees conserve energy, pulling life inward.
Nothing looks alive on the surface, but everything is.
Desire follows the same wisdom.
It often retreats when:
As The Petals Drop
As the Petals Drop
Feb 15
Written By Trish Gailes
We’re halfway through the “What Kind of Plant Are You?” series. If you are new here, the series starts with the blog titled “The Way of The Cacti”. In it, you are introduced to mental health issues as they relate to vines, dandelions, roses, and bushes. We’ve identified vines in the blog titled “The Ivy Way” and dandelion seed heads in “Wish I May, Wish I Might”. Today’s blog will focus on roses.
Let’s Talk Thorns…
It is no surprise that roses are the most popular flowers in the world. It is the go to flower to declare love, show appreciation, and celebrate. Roses are the universal mascot for Valentine’s Day and a staple for anniversaries as well as birthdays. Shakespeare even famously wrote, “A rose, by any other name, would smell as sweet".
“Who wouldn’t want to be a rose?”, you may wonder. That is until you remember that roses have thorns.
One of the biggest thorns or downsides to this remarkable flower is its short lifespan. Each rose completes its individual growth cycle every 4 to 8 weeks. This means a rose experiences birth, growth, and death in 2 months tops. When a rose begins to open, it is already beginning to die. In fact, roses in bloom have about a week to live before their petals drop and they wither away.
If you find yourself in a constant state of change, you might be a rose.
Consent Is a Love Language
Consent Is a Love Language
Feb 8
Written By Dr. Nïchelle Wall
Why Safety Is the Foundation of Desire, Trust, and Connection
Consent Is a Love Language
We talk about love as if it has to be this loud thing.
Grand gestures.
Sacrifice.
Intensity that burns hot and fast.
We’ve been conditioned to believe that love proves itself through endurance — how much we can tolerate, how much we can give, how much of ourselves we can stretch thin in the name of connection.
But love — the kind that actually heals — is often quiet.
It doesn’t demand.
It doesn’t rush.
It doesn’t override your body’s wisdom.
It sounds like:
“Are you open to this?”
“Does this feel good for you?”
“We can stop.”
That’s consent.
And consent isn’t just a rule of engagement or a checkbox to clear.
It’s a language of care — one that says your experience matters as much as my desire.
Wish I May, Wish I Might
Wish I May, Wish I Might
Let’s continue our journey exploring mental health as it relates to vines, bushes, roses, and dandelion seed heads. If you have not been following along, please start with the blog titled “The Way of The Cacti,” and then read “The Ivy Way: Upward Growth”. When you are caught up, continue below.
Here’s The Deal…
This week is for my gone with the wind, topsy turvy dreamers, the Dandelion Seed Heads. It is important to note that dandelion seed heads are the mature, gray-haired versions of young yellow dandelions. They are the make-a-wish puffballs of our youth. What is most notable about dandelions in any phase of existence is their adaptability. They grow from deep roots that allow them to survive in various climates while defending against environmental and even human interruption. Deep roots aerate stagnant soils allowing them to survive in the shade, heat, and even drought. Even mowing is futile, because they just regrow from their strong roots. Despite their survival skills, dandelions die and regrow elsewhere when their seed heads break free and reattach miles away. Then, new roots run deep.
Boundaries Are Fertilizer, Not Fences
Boundaries Are Fertilizer, Not Fences
Why Saying No Is How You Feed Your Growth
We’ve been taught to think of boundaries as walls.
Cold.
Rigid.
Punitive.
But in nature, boundaries are nourishment.
A garden without borders is quickly overtaken.
Plants without spacing compete for resources.
Roots without limits tangle and suffocate each other.
Boundaries don’t restrict growth.
They direct it.
The Ivy Way: Upward Growth
The Ivy Way: Upward Growth
Did you figure out which plant you most identified with? If you did not, please visit my previous blog titled “The Way of The Cacti”. In it, we discussed the following plants and likened them to various mental states: Vines (erratic & in need of boundaries), Bushes (in the maintenance phase & just need guidance from time to time), Roses (living in constant change, always learning, growing, & shedding as needed), and Dandelion Seed Heads (not grounded, pulled in every direction by others).
Setting Roots, Not Resolutions
Why Slow Growth Is the Most Radical Choice You Can Make
January always arrives loud.
New goals.
New bodies.
New habits.
New versions of ourselves — demanded immediately.
But nature doesn’t grow on demand.
In January, the soil is cold.
The roots are resting.
The seeds are not rushing.
And yet, we pressure ourselves to bloom before we’ve even stabilized. We confuse urgency with growth and productivity with worth. We expect visible change before safety has been established.
This year, WallFlowers, we’re choosing something different.
We’re setting roots, not resolutions.
Pollination: The Healing Power of Community
Why you were never meant to bloom alone.
A single flower can survive on its own.
But a thriving garden?
That requires connection.
Pollination is one of nature’s quiet miracles — an unseen exchange that allows life to multiply. Bees move from bloom to bloom, carrying what one flower cannot give itself. No force. No demand. Just mutual benefit.
Healing works the same way.
You can do deep inner work alone — and sometimes you must — but transformation accelerates when growth becomes shared. Community is not a luxury in healing; it’s an ecosystem.
The Way of The Cacti
What kind of plant are you? This is a loaded question. For those unsure how to answer, let's consider some common examples to get you started. Vines can seem erratic, twisting and growing beyond their pots, in constant need of boundaries. Bushes can typically be left to their own devices with gentle shaping along the way, or a shearing overhaul can produce unique shapes. Roses showcase their entire growth cycle in 4 to 8 weeks.
The Replanting: Becoming Who You’ve Been Growing Toward
A story of rebirth, embodiment, and choosing a new soil on purpose.
Every gardener knows when it’s time.
A plant begins to outgrow its pot — roots circling the bottom, leaves pressing against the edges, the soil drying out faster than it can be watered.
It’s still alive. Still beautiful.
But it’s constrained.
It cannot rise any further unless someone (usually the one who loves it) makes the bold choice to replant it.
And so it is with us.
There comes a season in healing when the pruning has taken place, the waiting period is over, the underground work reaches a point… and your spirit whispers:
“You don’t belong in this old container anymore.”
That whisper is the call to replant.
To step into a new environment, a new identity, a new level of embodiment that matches who you’ve quietly grown into.
Replanting is the moment your internal work finally asks for an external life that aligns.
The Bloom Delay: Trusting Growth You Can’t Yet See
There’s a sacred frustration that comes with healing.
You do the work, plant the seeds, prune what no longer serves you… and then nothing happens.
At least, nothing you can see.
Your spirit feels quiet.
Your goals feel stagnant.
Your progress feels invisible.
It’s the season no one talks about… the stretch of stillness between effort and evidence. The Bloom Delay.
This is the part of the growth journey that tests you the most. Not the pain, not the pruning, not the release, but the waiting.
Finding Your Rhythm
If life is measured by moments, are you spending yours wisely? Let’s explore the illusion of time. There’s always plenty of it and yet never as much as we thought. At times, we find ourselves with what seems like extra time on our hands. If you simply take in that time to relax or check on loved ones, then congratulations. Have a celebratory latte, mimosa, tea, or smoothie on me…but really on you. Hey, you deserve it.
Pruning Season: Letting Go Without Losing Yourself
There’s a moment in every garden when beauty turns crowded.
The leaves overlap, vines twist into knots, and what once grew freely starts competing for space and sunlight. That’s when a real gardener reaches for the pruning shears not because she doesn’t love what’s grown, but because she knows love without boundaries becomes overgrowth.
Gardening Maintenance
Growth doesn’t typically happen in comfort. It occurs in the soil of discomfort, through seasons that test your patience, resilience, and faith. Just like a flower can’t thrive if you refuse to get your hands dirty, you can’t bloom if you keep avoiding what needs tending.
The Weed Called Avoidance
Avoidance is the most deceptive gardener. It promises protection (“If I don’t look at it, I won’t feel it.”), but in truth, avoidance is a weed. It grows quietly, spreading its roots beneath the surface of your mind and heart, choking out new growth before it even begins.
Tend To Your Garden
Sometimes it feels like life is happening to us. We’ll stub our toe, break a nail, get cut off in traffic, or someone refuses to hold an elevator despite our hustle. If we’re not careful, we will take personal offense to happenstance, internalizing these inconveniences and counting them as another score of personal hardships. There goes another drop (or two) in the bucket. Everything feels like a lesson learned or worse. It’s another dreaded, “You should have known better” or “I told you so”. Those are the phrases that haunt the people who have been let down too often. We strive to find the good, but opt for realism to maintain our sanity. “I’m not a pessimist. I’m a realist,” we say. What we don’t realize is that we’ve activated defensive pessimism. It becomes our battle cry, placated disposition, and ultimately the coping mechanism of choice.
Welcome to The Watering Room
Every flower needs water. Every soul needs a place to be poured into.
The Watering Room is that place. A space where the thirst of healing can finally be quenched. This is more than a blog. It’s a sanctuary, a greenhouse for the soul, a room where WallFlowers are not overlooked but invited to bloom. Here, we honor quiet strength, hidden beauty, and the courage it takes to grow in spaces that weren’t designed to notice you.