.....I love to weed

Yogis,
I don’t believe it is the actual pulling of the plant from the ground. Probably not the fact that as soon as I have finished an area it is time to start back at the beginning again. And definitely not the sensitive feeling I have in my back after a solid weeding session. But I realized I love to weed.

I came to this conclusion while telling one of my stories during a zoom class (I love to tell stories). I had been weeding that afternoon and I shared my epiphany with everyone. Later someone commented that I am the only person they know who likes to weed. I go even a step further. I love to weed.

What is this all about? I decided to become the observer of my own life to get to the bottom of this revelation and here is what I uncovered.

As you know I have a large medicine wheel garden. Twenty-four feet in diameter and taking up almost half of the backyard, there is a lot that goes on in there. I can see the whole circle from my bedroom window, from the back deck and from the great room. I can walk around it in the yard and marvel at the colors and textures. I can give tours and take pictures. Yet it isn’t until I get down on my hands and knees and crawl in at weed level that I truly ‘see’ the garden.

Once I plop myself down and train my eyes on the earth to begin determining what stays and what goes, it is as if a curtain is drawn back and another whole world is unveiled. A world teaming with life that I would never get the chance to experience otherwise if I chose to farm out my weeding. I love to weed.

If I didn’t climb in among the lemon balm she wouldn’t coat my hands so that when I brush my hair back from my sweat drenched face a burst of lemon aroma engulfs me. Only when I lean into the passionflower to reach behind her does her intoxicating scent force an audible sigh to escape my lips. And blue spice basil, oh my. What she does when brushed against makes me close my eyes to immerse myself in her fully.

If I wasn’t diving under the zinnias, I would never spot the sleeping bee on the anise hyssop or the silly google eyed green grasshopper. I would never notice how the dragonfly keeps landing nearby trying to get my attention. How a small tomato plant has emerged, presumably from a scattered seed buried last summer or the arugula growing amidst the bergamot. How did you get there?

A chrysalis hanging on a leaf from a recently emerged butterfly. The hoof marks that tattle on the deer. I love to weed.

And best of all, while weeding I am still and quiet. Present. Aware and open to receive. And it is in those moments that inspiration pours in. Ideas for these writings. Answers to dilemmas. Guidance on my life’s purpose. So whenever I feel disconnected, worried or confused…..I head out to weed. Choosing what remains and what needs to go.

I love to weed,
SARAH