Pang Nam Fui 
For a long time I blamed myself for losing moth orchids, when the real culprit was the dense mix I kept potting them in. A Phalaenopsis roots in coarse, airy bark, not soil, and inside I cover the right particle size, a simple home recipe, and how to catch a mix that has broken down.
I grow this plant the way its forest floor does: a mix that drains while it stays damp, north light within about three feet of the glass, and a pot that is never left standing in its own runoff. Everything else in the care routine follows from those three settings.
A drooping clump looks the same whether the mix is soaked or bone dry, so I stop guessing and lift the pot instead. Weight settles it in seconds, the hairline gap at the soil line confirms it, and the speed of the recovery names which of the two I had.
Yellowing never reverses on the blade that has already turned, so I stop trying to rescue it and read the plant instead. Substrate weight, then water, then light, in that order. The newest leaf is where recovery actually shows up, and that is the one I watch.
Leaf droop alone cannot name the cause, so I lift the plant out and read the roots the same day. Firm white tissue stays, anything soft goes, and a base that gives under a thumb ends the rescue there. What follows is subtraction: less water, no feed, steady light.
Leaves keep coming and no spike ever rises, which looks like a mystery and is really a number. I check the light at leaf height first, then the size of the clump, then leave the peace lily alone for one full growth cycle before I judge whether anything changed.
A limp plant straight after a move is not automatically a failure, so I water it through once and come back an hour later. Lifting means it was dry. Staying flat means the roots have stopped drawing, and the two weeks that follow are about subtracting rather than adding.
There is no stem to cut back on this plant, so a stretched peace lily is fixed by moving it rather than by trimming it. I hold the newest leaf against an oldest one, read the stalk length and the color, then find the pot a brighter spot and turn it every watering.
I name the insect by where it sits before I reach for anything, because position separates the three peace lily pests in one look. Then the order matters more than the product: isolate the plant, take the insects off by hand, and use a single agent in one room.
Leaf cuttings do not work on this plant, so propagating a peace lily means splitting the clump rather than rooting a blade. I water 1 day ahead so the root ball comes out damp, brush the surface back to find where the fans already separate, and give every piece roots of its own.