I fret over too many things that are well beyond my control. I fret over my mother’s health and the upcoming election. I fret over traffic, truth, and the demise of a 35 year old turntable. Feral cats, students, my squinky eye, or just about anything can hijack my brain and set it to spinning a recording of worries that is not productive. To counteract this ridiculous loop, I turn to something that I can control: weeds. I pull weeds, and I try to meditate as I do so. Yep, weeding is meditation. I select one part of the yard and start pulling. Today it was the front path and the thin planting bed next to the house. I pulled with my fingers or with the fork and yanked those suckers. I gave the pulled weeds the name of a problem and dropped them in an empty kitty litter bucket. At the end of about an hour, I had cleaner planting beds, a clearer head, and a tiny sense of control. But I have really dirty fingernails.
One Weed at a Time…
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