Misplaced Plants

Spent the better part of yesterday morning pulling misplaced plants.  Plants growing were people -- in this case, my mother-in-law -- don't want them to grow.  In other words, weeds. 

I guess you can say that weeds are in the eye of the beholder.  If you're like me, you don't mind a yard full of weeds.  after all, my yard does look green and lush -- at least from airplanes coming in to land at the Evansville Airport.  But, if you DO care not to have them in your yard or landscaping, they ARE weeds.  And weeds do need to be eliminated.  That was my chore yesterday. 

I decided to get out before the 105-degree heat index with 75% humidity attacked in full force.

Arland Gilbert, the great . . .  (okay, I admit it, I have no idea who he is) wrote:

"When we accept tough jobs as a challenge to our ability and wade into them with joy and enthusiasm, miracles can happen."

That was me alright, wading into weeding with joy and enthusiasm.  The miracle was that I didn't have a heat stroke.  But, Suzanne was there all the way to help and we survived.   

You see, pulling weeds is a spiritual practice.  The Divine literally grounds us in the here and now.   The past and the future are not here. They may be, for some reason, in the mind and heart, however, only the present weedy moment is the present weedy moment. We are made for the present moment. In it, there is a purpose and meaning and a full living of life that the past and the future cannot provide.  As I pulled weeds I tried to be aware of the Zen proverb:  Before enlightenment: hewing wood and drawing water; after enlightenment: hewing wood and drawing water.

Oh, who the hell am I kidding?  Let's face it, I was just pulling weeds.  I was hot, getting blisters from hoeing, dazed when I looked at the cubic yards of landscaping beds I still had in front of me. 

Yes, I'm sure that there is some lesson to be learned from pulling weeds, but I'm certainly not Zen enough to understand it.

Other than, there really is no need to grumble and complain.  When God sends weeds, just do what you have to do to pull through. 

Or as Thoreau said, "When a dog runs at you, whistle for him."

Carpe diem Life,
David Kuhn