In the garden of life, the weeds have taught me that suffering can lead to wisdom and that when things don’t go perfectly, we can appreciate the times when things have gone well and look forward to the future with the hope that things will go well again.
That there is not a single difference concerning their being lovable just as they are. The difference with “not-weed” might be just beauty less visible as to untrained eyes, and heart, untrained like mine have been. Deeply grateful for whole of creation and the “garden of life” and for the one creating force of it all.
To embrace what I find challenging most of the time, if not all the time. Weeds are blessings strengthening us, teaching us to be better and seeing our hearts as gardens of flowers and beauty.
A lovely metaphor – the garden of life!
Weeds continually teach me many things:
* Be careful not to rip them out with force as they may pull the good plants with them. Be patient with my faults and nurture my virtues..
*Some weeds die on their own in time and add to the soil. Sometimes the weeds of my life gives me an opportunity to venture where others cannot so as to now spread the good.
*Some weeds I just continuously need to work on because I cannot get the root out without hurting the other plants. So I work diligently to keep them in check. Not so fun but they may not bother the garden if I keep them from choking out the light and nutrients. These are those annoying faults in my life that I just need to keep gently working with.
*Once in a while, what I think is a weed is often an unexpected good plant whose seed has blown into my garden without my knowledge or planting:) and it surprises me with its flowers or fruit.
*But most importantly to me, weeds teach me to appreciate the good that grows, and the bounty that comes from the garden!
So I look to be grateful the good in my life as it is the fruit of my garden!
Well, if the “weed” is something unwanted and unplanned for, I guess it has taught me to, not be too set on my plans and expect challenges along the way. Weeds are irrepressible and wild, tough and tenacious. I think I identify more with the weeds than the pampered and tended plants. Yes, I think there is much to learn from the “weeds”.
Quite a few years ago I arrived at the philosophy that if I like and appreciate who I am today then I have to accept that all the “weeds” were part of making me this person. Each one has taught me something I’ve incorporated into how I approach life, how I treat other people, what I value. In the grand scheme of things even the weeds make oxygen we need to live.
Some weeds remind me not to neglect the beauty of the commonplace and wonder in the ordinary. If a dandelion were rare, we would marvel at it. That bright yellow bloom and amazing seed pod. Children know this wonder. Some weeds remind me to retain the wonder of childhood when my heart leapt up at the sight of a dandelion and I was drawn to them and chased after their delicate seeds dancing on the wind, when I held buttercups under my chin and collected clover blooms and tied them into bracelets and crowns. They weren’t “weeds” to me then. They were marvels and mediums for creation, imagination, exploration. George Eliot said that we never could have loved the earth so well if we had no childhood in it. And I believe that’s true. The key is to somehow keep that connection alive as we grow older.
Some weeds also remind me to always look for the flower in the ditch, as it were. Flowers like chicory, mullein, and fleabanes that grow in the dry, dim, and dismal places, where it seems that nothing else would grow. There is beauty even there.
One of our neighbors has a lawnmower that keeps breaking and they haven’t been able to mow their yard in quite a while. We live in a little tiny neighborhood where most of the people take very good care of their yards and this house, on the corner of our cul-de-sac, stands out for its neglect. It’s messy, sure, but in the corner of the lawn they have the most beautiful patch of sunny yellow buttercups and it makes me happy to see them. I had the chance to tell them that the other day when we were walking past and chatted a bit. My husband volunteered to come over and cut their grass; I said “Oh, leave the buttercups!” They said their children love them too. Then I came home and realized I also have a little patch of buttercups in a back corner that sprang up in less than a week.
It’s funny and delightful that you should share this. As I sit looking out my kitchen window this morning, there are weedy patches of buttercups speckled all over the yard. I always mow around them. 🙂
Weeds taught me that I could grow in spite of their presence. They made me tougher, more resilient.
At other times the weeds showed me where and how I could grow and flourish. By blocking off one path, they forced me into new directions that I wouldn’t have discovered otherwise.
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Don’t get too caught up. That there is beauty in all things.
weeds have taught me that life gets tough and I am stronger than I realize with each weed I’ve pulled.
Stop being so picky
In the garden of life, the weeds have taught me that suffering can lead to wisdom and that when things don’t go perfectly, we can appreciate the times when things have gone well and look forward to the future with the hope that things will go well again.
That there is not a single difference concerning their being lovable just as they are. The difference with “not-weed” might be just beauty less visible as to untrained eyes, and heart, untrained like mine have been. Deeply grateful for whole of creation and the “garden of life” and for the one creating force of it all.
Everything has its place in this creation.
To embrace what I find challenging most of the time, if not all the time. Weeds are blessings strengthening us, teaching us to be better and seeing our hearts as gardens of flowers and beauty.
A lovely metaphor – the garden of life!
Weeds continually teach me many things:
* Be careful not to rip them out with force as they may pull the good plants with them. Be patient with my faults and nurture my virtues..
*Some weeds die on their own in time and add to the soil. Sometimes the weeds of my life gives me an opportunity to venture where others cannot so as to now spread the good.
*Some weeds I just continuously need to work on because I cannot get the root out without hurting the other plants. So I work diligently to keep them in check. Not so fun but they may not bother the garden if I keep them from choking out the light and nutrients. These are those annoying faults in my life that I just need to keep gently working with.
*Once in a while, what I think is a weed is often an unexpected good plant whose seed has blown into my garden without my knowledge or planting:) and it surprises me with its flowers or fruit.
*But most importantly to me, weeds teach me to appreciate the good that grows, and the bounty that comes from the garden!
So I look to be grateful the good in my life as it is the fruit of my garden!
In my area it is being promoted NO MOW MAY. It helps the bees. To me even those yards are beautiful!
Most of what I know!
Well, if the “weed” is something unwanted and unplanned for, I guess it has taught me to, not be too set on my plans and expect challenges along the way. Weeds are irrepressible and wild, tough and tenacious. I think I identify more with the weeds than the pampered and tended plants. Yes, I think there is much to learn from the “weeds”.
Quite a few years ago I arrived at the philosophy that if I like and appreciate who I am today then I have to accept that all the “weeds” were part of making me this person. Each one has taught me something I’ve incorporated into how I approach life, how I treat other people, what I value. In the grand scheme of things even the weeds make oxygen we need to live.
Some weeds remind me not to neglect the beauty of the commonplace and wonder in the ordinary. If a dandelion were rare, we would marvel at it. That bright yellow bloom and amazing seed pod. Children know this wonder. Some weeds remind me to retain the wonder of childhood when my heart leapt up at the sight of a dandelion and I was drawn to them and chased after their delicate seeds dancing on the wind, when I held buttercups under my chin and collected clover blooms and tied them into bracelets and crowns. They weren’t “weeds” to me then. They were marvels and mediums for creation, imagination, exploration. George Eliot said that we never could have loved the earth so well if we had no childhood in it. And I believe that’s true. The key is to somehow keep that connection alive as we grow older.
Some weeds also remind me to always look for the flower in the ditch, as it were. Flowers like chicory, mullein, and fleabanes that grow in the dry, dim, and dismal places, where it seems that nothing else would grow. There is beauty even there.
Where you my neighbor? I enjoyed the activities you mentioned. Thanks for listing them.
One of our neighbors has a lawnmower that keeps breaking and they haven’t been able to mow their yard in quite a while. We live in a little tiny neighborhood where most of the people take very good care of their yards and this house, on the corner of our cul-de-sac, stands out for its neglect. It’s messy, sure, but in the corner of the lawn they have the most beautiful patch of sunny yellow buttercups and it makes me happy to see them. I had the chance to tell them that the other day when we were walking past and chatted a bit. My husband volunteered to come over and cut their grass; I said “Oh, leave the buttercups!” They said their children love them too. Then I came home and realized I also have a little patch of buttercups in a back corner that sprang up in less than a week.
It’s funny and delightful that you should share this. As I sit looking out my kitchen window this morning, there are weedy patches of buttercups speckled all over the yard. I always mow around them. 🙂
. . . that weeds
are people too. 🙂
Everyone has a place in the world . . .
everyone has value,
everyone is beautiful in their own way,
everyone belongs . . .
somewhere,
somehow.
I am human.
Weeds taught me that I could grow in spite of their presence. They made me tougher, more resilient.
At other times the weeds showed me where and how I could grow and flourish. By blocking off one path, they forced me into new directions that I wouldn’t have discovered otherwise.