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Weeds In My Garden

I recently visited the airport to see a friend off. While he was checking in I looked out through the glass wall into a well-manicured garden. I soon recognized that there weren’t any visible weeds. This then got me to thinking, what exactly is a weed?

A quick check of the dictionary revealed several things to me – some more poignant than others. A weed is

  1. A wild plant growing where it isn’t wanted
  2. An undesirable plant in a particular situation or in the wrong place
  3. A plant that is not valued where it is growing.

 

I thought to myself that any plant can be a weed if it is growing where it is not wanted and valued. Imagine a rose growing in a tomato field. The rose doesn’t belong there it is not wanted, it is out of place. It might be beautiful to look at but it is a weed. Think about a grapevine growing in a rose garden. Getting in between the branches and the thorns… a sticky situation.

The beautiful scenery I saw caused me to reflect on my life. Are there weeds in my life? Maybe there are beautiful traits that are out of place or undesirable. Or maybe there are attractive things that are adding no value to my well-being or progress.

My wife often tells me that I am too patient. Is she right? Yes, she is. Now, don’t get me wrong, patience is a good thing but used incorrectly or in the wrong place, it becomes undesirable and like a weed. Being overly patient when you should be acting is just as bad as acting when you should be patient.

Since then I have been doing some self-evaluation. What weeds am I allowing to grow in my life? There may be good things that no longer serve a purpose for where I am heading or habits that need breaking and removal.

Whatever it is, as beautiful as the garden may be in your life anything that doesn’t fit, or doesn’t serve a purpose, or is uncultivated is a weed.

 

Bless

Beauty In Cages

Cages, a space where we imprison things we fear.

A space where danger lurks and we can admire its beauty,

From a distance…

From afar off I stare, from afar off I am amazed

Marveling in the hues of colour, in the strength of the captured.

 

Locked in and chained

Restrained from running free, from flying high

From being.

 

Birds can’t fly free anymore

I’ve clipped their wings so I can gaze at their splendor

While they sing the song of freedom, redemption song.

From a dead tree trunk wishing for green leaves.

 

Orange and black stripes lurking on the forest floor

Now anesthetized by metal bars and bullet proof glass

Hear me Roar!

Hear me growl, feeding on piece of dead horses instead of hunting

Game…

 

But is it a game that we cage that which is beautiful

Because we are fearful?

We put minds in the cage of education systems

Restraining thought because we fear, we may be wrong

Wrong about origins, wrong about religion, wrong about being right

Wrong about our conclusions.

 

Minds with music, minds with art,

Minds with supple flexible bodies

Making silhouettes with moonlight.

Minds held back, minds in binds

Don’t question this don’t question that.

Stay in line, march in time

March like everyone else till we’re all blind; walking with cages on our minds.

As we admire the hues and possible plumes of each other

Fearing the beauty of another

 

Why put minds in cages?

When curiosity is beauty

Exploring the expansiveness beyond the lock and key

Beauty in mental boxes

Beauty in captivity

The systems and traditions we’ve put

To cage our true beauty

Be free, be free.

©2017

Stephen John

Published S2J2 Publishings