Today I am Writing: On Weeding

My yard is a whirlwind of green in these Spring has Sprung days.

Yesterday, in a whirlwind of "taking care of life," I came out here to skim off the pond. Surrounded by a multitude of growing things, I frittered away, pleased to be outside, enjoying the abundance of green. Suddenly, as I hovered over the waters, I became aware that not all of that green was actually meant to be there. There had been a planter, who had planted with intention. And then there were some extraneous seeds blown in by the winds, that had taken root and grown up, often straight in the middle of those legitimate plantings.

Suddenly, I found myself pulling out piles and piles and piles of weeds. I collected them up in my arms, dumped them where they could be taken away. Then I ran inside and went on with my day.

Today, for the first time this year, I found myself with a moment to sit out by the pond, to watch the birds hopping and the chipmunks skittering, to breathe.

I intended to read and to think, but as I leaned my head against the cushion, my eyes fluttered open and closed as the sun shuttered back and forth behind the clouds.

Never fully out-of-consciousness, there were moments where I nonetheless stuttered into awareness of what was around me. I turned my head. I simply looked. Around.

I looked at those plantings, without the weeds. I saw them for what they were: Beautiful. Simple. Healthy.

Yesterday, they were overcrowded. Today they are just right.

This is me, too, in this Present Moment. I thought all the stuff I'd collected was fine, was good, abundant. I was frittering away in what just was. Then, the Master Planter began to show me the things to clear out. To Reclaim what He intended. Beautiful, Simple, Healthy.

Just Right.
His.