What a Sphere Taught Me About Growth

by Louisa :)

I remember the first time I unboxed one of Dirty Roots’ sphere planters. It was heavy in my hands, raw, textured, cold. Not the kind of pretty perfect planter you see in home décor shops, but something else. Something with a quiet gravity. Like it had lived a few lives before arriving here.

That was week one of my internship at Dirty Roots Berlin.

I didn’t know what to expect coming into this role. Business development sounded clean and sharp, but what I walked into was something deeply human and imperfect in the most beautiful way. Here was a brand using reclaimed materials, trash essentially, and turning them into these stunning, soulful objects. Each piece felt alive, like it had a memory. And the sphere, that one stayed with me.

My job was to identify concept stores and Planters stores that might resonate with our vision. Sounds simple, but imagine trying to explain the essence of something that is both design and feeling. How do you tell someone that a planter isn’t just a container but a small rebellion against mass produced emptiness?

I kept returning to the sphere.

There’s something poetic about its form. No edges. No hierarchy. It doesn’t try to direct your attention. It just is. And maybe that’s what I was craving too, something honest, undemanding, whole.

Every day during the internship, I worked with stories: emails, pitches, brand decks. But behind all of it was this simple truth. We are not just selling planters. We’re offering people a moment of connection. With the earth. With slowness. With the beauty of flawed things.

And in a way, that’s also been my story. I’ve had to learn to hold the uncomfortable, to value process over perfection, to trust the cycles, just like plants do. Just like the sphere does. It cradles life, not by being shiny or symmetrical, but by being steady and real.

I still have that first sphere planter. It's empty now, sitting on my shelf like a reminder. I think I’ll keep it that way a little longer. It’s enough that it exists. That it holds space. That it was made from what others discarded.

That’s Dirty Roots for me. Not a brand. A philosophy.

And if you're curious, you can see the sphere planters here. But maybe don’t just scroll past them. Pause. Look. Feel. There’s a story waiting for you too.