Amid the Chickweed and Dust

I used to think I liked gardening. Now I’m not so sure.

Last night, I was weeding the garden. I’d recently re-sowed some reluctant cucumber seeds and a couple of them had bravely sprouted – finally! But they were under siege, those shy little sprouts, from all sorts of chickweed and other unnamed weeds. (Well, someone named them, obviously. But I don’t know their names, nor do I care to get too familiar.)

As I tore the stubborn chickweed from the powder-dry soil, I felt my mind searching for unpleasant past events to remind me of. I knew what was coming after the memory: the accusation. You should have handled that situation differently. Then people wouldn’t do and say the things they do. Thank you, mind, for your encouragement.

My mind had a point, of course. If I behaved differently, people would react differently. But it would never be perfect. I will never be perfect.

That’s another thing that dawned on me recently. It’s impossible for me to become perfect. I never realized that I held personal perfection as a goal, never realized that I’d convinced myself I could achieve perfection.

In fact, I think I’m still easing myself out of that belief, clawing my way up its slippery walls and out into the light of understanding. Holy crow, I will never be perfect. Now that’s something to process.

While I was gardening and thinking oh, so negatively, I took a deep breath and tried to come back to the present moment, out of my head and into the garden. When I did, I saw a beautiful thing I’d overlooked before. This lone, orange poppy grew against the fence, perfect in that single moment. And maybe that’s the best any one of us can aim for, moments of perfection amid the dust and chickweed.

Take care and stay safe!

Lori