“All gardeners live in beautiful places because they make them so.”
– Joseph Joubert

Some days it feels like weeds are overtaking my life.  Those dreary March and April days spent looking out my window made me ache to smush my hands in the dirt, prune back the overgrown branches, and clear out winter’s accumulated debris.  It’s not very beautiful out there.

Now that the sun is shining and I’ve had a few solid weekends in the garden, I’m questioning my eagerness.  Everywhere I go, I encounter weeds.  The unwanted stuff, the clutter, the dead relationships and outgrown friendships bog up my mind and consume my free space.  It’s not very beautiful in here.
They creep up next to the stepping stone, through the sprinkler heads, and crowd my lavender bushes.  They sneak next to the day lilies, snake their way up the Japanese maple’s tender stems, and root themselves firmly and cleverly amidst the heirloom roses.  They consume my free time, crowd my in box and rest on empty spaces.
Depending on my mood, I pull, or dig, or bust out the sprays when I just can’t get a handle on them.  Some days I carefully unwind them, desperate to leave the host unharmed.  Other days, lack of patience gets the best of me, and I curse and yank, decimating both simultaneously.
As I’m down on my knees, I occasionally upend an earthworm and send him wiggling back into the soil, or startle a mourning dove feasting on scattered seed.  Sometimes I unearth a new bloom, resilient from the winter’s frost.  Or an abandoned baseball, leather long gone.  Sometimes I close my eyes and breathe in and out, searching for an answer.
Plowing through the weeds gives me time to think, to meditate, to wonder about what might emerge next.  I strategize, sensitize, and surrender to what is yet to come.  Sometimes I just sink.
Pushing through winter’s debris to uncover, to create some breathing room, I sense an opening, a space for clarity.  I see progress, I sense some control.  I inhale, exhale, and look around me.  Blooms, new growth, and possibility are in sight.
Just for today, a little bit of beauty, made by me.

Jennifer Wolfe

Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Jennifer is a Google Certified Educator, Hyperdoc fanatic, and a voracious reader. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe, and grab free copies of her teaching and parenting resources.

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  1. You could be talking about your garden our your soul…I related to it as writer battling doubt because I’d never go into the garden and dig ( not my thing). 🙂

  2. Dear Jennifer, . . . such a philosophical posting. A metaphor truly. Thank you for getting me thinking about the “weeds” in many aspects of my life.

    And please know that I’m going to try to get back into a daily reading of postings. This moving business + computer problems have left me with little time. But I’m getting back on the horse. (To use another piece of figurative language!)


    1. Hi Dee, so glad to hear from you! I know that all this change you’re going through is going to result in some great posts in the near future! Take care….

  3. I’ve been doing a little “weeding” this year, but I’m afraid there are a lot back now. I will literally be pulling weeds sometime today hopefully. It’s pretty nice out here. Hope you have a better day today!

  4. I just posted a meme that said something like ” Who needs therapy when you can garden? ” The process of gardening is so therapeutic. Removing the old, dead parts and the invasive parts that crowd growth to allow room for something new that nourishes us physically or through it’s aesthetics. Yup, I am addicted to getting dirt under my nails.

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