Everything in life has its two sides. The good and the bad forever united in anything we see around us. Feel around us. Know around us. And the side we choose to actively see, praise and strengthen is the one that determines the way we view the world around us. We can go for the negativity, darkness and the like. Or take things for their positivity, light and greatness. Take weeds – for example. They can both be seen as a terror for the garden and as a durable sturdy little bastards. All depending on your angle. So this tiny trilogy focuses on the double-life of weeds. Don’t forget to read the rest (or you’ll think I’m scatterbrained and we couldn’t have that, could we).
Two-sided – Introduction
Two-sided – Growing Strong (you’re here)
Two-sided – Weed Whacking
Weeds – The warriors of the garden
As I sat on the bench in my garden yesterday and stared down at a small fuzzy bulbous dandelion that was growing out of a crack in one of the tiles – I considered the life of weeds. Simultaneously hating the small tiny flower for causing me work, and admiring it for it’s determination to grow in that stupid cracked tile.
You need a wicked sort of strength to allow yourself to grow when there’s nobody supporting you. To choose life where that’s not a given. To make the most of scarce resources and to build up a life with everything working against you. An insane sort of power to root yourself in the places you might not be wanted and where you have to find the nerve to stick your head up, only to risk losing it every time you do. Weeds do just that. Weeds are amazing like that. People should be brave like weeds, if you ask me.
Arguably, they are pests. Ruiners of gardens around the world. Blights on the proud owners of grassy paradises and terrors for old ladies and their perfectly kept rose-beds. But they also tend to possess a strange sort of beauty, regardless of their hated standard. Take that dandelion. The fuzzy stilts that sway in the breeze, waiting to be released in a cacophony of floating morsels. The brightest yellow of the stringy flowers. It’s beautiful in its own way. Not classically, elegantly pretty in the way of flowers but a sort of rugged charm that is only visible when you look a bit closer.
They’re much like humans in that regard. Often underappreciated from the start, but once given the chance strangely capable of pleasing the eye. They can grow on you. Some people, that is. (Weeds growing on you would be worrisome. Just saying)
And if anything – their presence is an omen for brighter futures. Because once there’s weeds growing somewhere – it forebodes the arrival of more greenery. Shows the capabilities of existing fertile grounds and the potential for growth. When a weed can weather the storms – there’s suddenly grounds for bigger and better plants to stake their claim.
When we ourselves, as people, weather adversity and buckle up to fight our way to the surface – we create the space for grander adventures ourselves. When we start our journey fighting like weeds, we give ourselves the chance to blossom into flowers. Or plant new ones in that ever-changing garden that is our life. When we follow the example of those pesky little weeds in the garden – we might find a strength we never realized we had. And that makes weeds frigging awesome.
As long as they stop growing in my backyard, that is.
Go be awesome elsewhere, please.