The Plant Experiment: A Lesson in Words, Energy, and Care

615 words, 3 minutes read time

A few years ago, when I was still teaching full-time, I led my Grade 8 class through a simple experiment that I’ve never forgotten. It started as a science-meets-wellness activity, inspired by a few stories I’d come across. But it turned into something much more lasting for my students, and for me.

We wanted to explore how our thoughts and words – the energy we bring to our day-to-day – might actually affect the world around us. I’d read about similar experiments: IKEA ran one in a school where they placed two identical plants in the same environment – same light, water, and soil. The only difference? One was praised daily, and the other was “bullied.” After several weeks, the difference was undeniable. The kind plant grew healthy and strong, while the other wilted.

Others have done variations of this with jars of rice, water, and even crystals. And regardless of whether we can claim these experiments to be “hard science”, the outcomes still have something to teach us about intention, about energy, and about the power of our words.

So we decided to try it ourselves.

We placed two practically identical plants side by side in our classroom. Same care. Same sunlight. Same watering schedule. But one variable was different: the words they heard.

To one plant, we spoke kindly:

“You’re growing so well.”
“You’re a beautiful plant.”
“We love seeing you thrive.”

To the other, we said the opposite:

“You’ll never grow.”
“You’re an ugly plant.”
“No one likes you.”

For many, it felt awkward and unnatural to speak harsh words out loud each day to a plant. Or just speaking out loud to a plant altogether. There was hesitation and a few nervous laughs at first. But we kept going long enough to observe what would happen.

And before long, the shift was impossible to ignore.

The plant that received kindness? It thrived. Its leaves stood tall, its green deepened, and it grew fuller week by week. It looked alive and well.

The other plant? It started to fade. Its leaves drooped and lost their color. Growth slowed, then stopped altogether. It looked tired. Worn. Almost like it had given up.

Eventually, we decided we couldn’t continue. The students and I felt genuinely bad for the struggling plant, so we began speaking to it with kindness, too. We hoped we could reverse the impact, and it did help, but we weren’t able to get it to fully recover with our words.

The difference between the two plants was clear: one flourished while the other floundered.

And this provided us with some real lessons.

It was never just about the plants, and this experience helped reinforced the ideas of:

Our words matter.
Our thoughts matter.
Our energy matters.

We also specifically reflected on what we direct at ourselves.

How many times do we speak to ourselves in ways we’d never speak to others? How often do we let inner narratives run unchecked? The stories we’ve carried too long, that no longer serve us, and maybe even never did?

The “I’m not good enough.”
Or maybe “Why can’t I get it right?”
Or even “I don’t have what it takes.”

We think these things, sometimes without even noticing. But like those plants, our bodies and spirits respond, even if we don’t see it right away.

I still catch myself doing it. And I have to check in with my own thoughts. Sometimes I use this experiment as a reminder to offer myself grace and compassion. That care isn’t just something we offer others – it’s something we deserve, too… and that the words we speak (out loud or in our heads) take root.
The energy we feed ourselves each day can either help us grow… or keep us stuck.

So let’s try, whenever we can, to choose thoughts and words that grow something good.

With gratitude,
Cassandra