Garden Blemishes

Weeding strongly affects one's perspective on life it seems.  A simple task can lead to deep thought.

For, as I walked back to the house this evening, I found I could not simply walk back as one does with the purpose of arriving at the place to which he is headed.  Instead, having spent time weeding of late, I had to stop and pull each weed I saw.

I did not appreciate the flowers or bushes, nor even the light shining through the trees.  All I could see were the weeds that needed to be pulled, and in this moment of compulsiveness I stooped not necessarily to make the place more beautiful, but to fulfill a duty.  If I had wanted to make it more beautiful, I might instead have turned my gaze upon the beautiful aspects of the gardens.  I might even have changed my perspective to see the whole as beautiful even with the weeds.

Yet I missed the passing beauty of the light that will never fall exactly the same way again, of a garden that will never look the same tomorrow; I missed everything but the weeds.

This is not to say there was nothing good in my weeding.  No doubt the garden really did look better without the weeds.  Also, I found it comforting to thus make my mark upon my surroundings, to fulfill this small duty, to accomplish something that clearly needed to be done.  There is a sort of pleasure in destroying something that is not seen as good.

So the weeds lie there shriveling in the garden now for whatever that is worth...

Take this as you will, dear readers.  I doubt you will need an explanation of this parable, but if you do I will not mind providing it.