Planting and weeding

It was a clear and sunny day for a change here in Wahiawa. (That reads like a bad first sentence in a third-rate pulp novel, but, what the heck, it was unusual and true.) As I try to think of things to do to nurture myself, today I turned to what most people might consider a chore: I pulled up weeds in my yard and garden.

I LIKE pulling out weeds. I feel strong and healthy as I clear space around the plants I love. The recent rains had softened the ground so the weeds give up their grips easily and spring out of the soil into my hands. I envision my pots of plants growing in the spaces left behind by the weeds and I feel joy slowly seeping into my heart and soul through the dirt surrounding my fingers and embedded under my nails. The early morning sun caresses my skin, warms my hair, and I feel peace.

I inspect the shoots just beginning to poke their way up into the sunlight in my garden plot; three types of peas, Swiss chard, spinach, and carrots are all up. There are more baby plants waiting in peat pots for their turn in the garden; peppers, tomatillos, eggplants, onions, thyme, oregano, tomatoes, and papayas. I shake my seed packets and realize that I'm going to have to expand my garden space if I want to get all these plants and seeds in the ground. That's more work, but it's joy-filled work.

As I work I think of the weeds in myself that aren't such fun to pull out. They don't route easily and they cause me emotional pain as I try to weed and prune myself into the person I want to be. At over a half century in age, I rather thought that was plenty of time to become more patient and understanding. How about wise? I really thought that wisdom was something that just arrived like a gift when I became 50. Here I am, 5 years later and I still don't feel particularly wise. I could certainly use wisdom when it comes to keeping my mouth closed when I'm irritated. Like weeds, my faults keep reappearing and disturbing the new habits I try to plant.

I wish I could be as patient with myself and daughter as I am with the garden plants and weeds. I don't expect my plants to grow up and bear fruit overnight. I don't expect the weeds to never reappear once I've pulled them up. Why do I expect Butterfly and me to be perfect right now?

I ponder these things as the sun pours peace on my head and the weeds continue to gleefully jump into my hands. I try to instill in my mind the idea that life is an ongoing cycle of planting and weeding and I may never see the final harvest. It takes time. Be patient with Butterfly. Be patient with myself. Allow us time to grow. Breathe...