When working, I often play music, an audible book, or some other sound to keep my mind focused. If I work in silence, I risk letting my thoughts take over, and they do meander. This past weekend, I allowed my thoughts to meander while doing a chore that required little thought—weeding.
Anyone who knows my house knows the front yard is full of cacti. A few years ago, it became my wife’s project to remove the stress of a day of teaching. No matter how much we tried to have a lush, green yard, it never worked out that way. There was always patchy grass here and there, and there were lots of bugs. So, one day, Nancy went into the yard with a shovel and started removing the grass. Some days, it was a couple of inches, and some days, an entire foot disappeared. Slowly, the yard disappeared from left to right. When she cleared enough space, a cactus was placed in the yard.
Nancy tries to keep the yard clear of weeds and looking spotless. However, of late, life got in the way. Between her working, helping with Girl Scout activities, running the city cookie cupboard, helping our daughter with school, and more – the weeds started to take over the yard. At first, I thought it was beautiful – the weeds created a soft blanket of green between the plants. The blanket grew to the point that plants were starting to disappear. This past Sunday morning, I decided to get out and start taking back the yard. Remembering my Nana’s words, I got up with the sun, donned protective clothing, and headed out. I left the music inside, and my thoughts soon started speaking to me.
Near the fence, I came across a large clump of weeds, but I knew from experience that underneath was a tiny cactus no longer visible to the passerby. I started with this corner of the yard.
The plant had reached a point in its life where it was having its life choked out of it. It could not do anything about the weeds creeping slowly into its life. It sat in place as the weeds started crawling up its arms—the sharp, needle-like points did nothing to defend it. It could not cry out for help as the weeds covered it, blocking out the sun – covering it to the point that any person walking by would not even know it existed.
I worked carefully to remove the weeds. Some of them were thin vines that, when stretched out, were longer than I am tall. There were times that my cleaning would break off a branch that was withered. I hope the removal will clear the way for new growth and life. No matter how I moved around the needles, watching the ones I could see only to feel others sliding effortlessly through my gloves and into my skin. My wrists, palms, and fingertips all became a pin cushion for this plant that I was working so hard to save. It did not mean to hurt me. It knew nothing of what it was doing to my skin. Yet, when I pulled my gloves off, spots of dried blood covered my hands. Even the next day, I could feel the spots at my fingertips as I typed emails and documents.
Eventually, the plant was free of the weeds. It could bask in the sun’s warmth. Passersby could now again see it sitting there, protecting the entrance to the yard.
As I worked on this section, I could not help but compare the cactus to people I know—perhaps even to myself. Sometimes, people try to live their lives without understanding the problems that are quietly invading. They may even look at the issues coming at them but do not see them as such – they see them as a lush blanket that will come and protect them from the harsh cold, rain, and severe winds. They may even latch onto these issues, thinking they are not problems but things that will improve their lives. Before they can understand reality, and sometimes never understand reality, the problems have them covered – no longer being able to see the light – becoming things that others do not even recognize.
I also thought of people who allow themselves to be covered so they can hide. They enable work to take over their lives—those who try to keep their lives so busy that they have no time for themselves. The blanket of responsibilities is their cover, blocking out the world. I know that, at times, this is me.
As I worked to save the plant, I again thought about the people who crossed my mind. The plant, being unable to think, did not stab me on purpose. I stabbed myself as I moved in to help the plant. I tried to be careful, but if you have ever played in a cactus, the needles were plentiful and left no fundamental gaps to reach. Often, when a loved one tries to help one of those described above, the loved one comes out with scars if for no other reason than they tried to help. Those needing the help do not intend to harm. The wounds may be physical. The scars may be mental. Regardless, the wounds hurt. Yet, the ones trying to clear the weeds of trouble continue. They do the work as long as possible – sometimes they can remove all the weeds; other times, they get as many weeds as possible – but the needles make it impossible to clear them all.
I also found that we were too late getting out there to clear the weeds and tend to the plants. Some of the cacti were lost for good. As I picked up these plants, I thought of those I knew who also lost their battles. So many struggle with their battles, fighting not to be taken over by the world’s problems. Unfortunately, the people struggling are not gathered in a single place where they can be seen and their issues visible to all passing by. As I finished weeding, I thought about how we never know who is losing their battle and needs help. I wondered if I have been tending to the garden of my loved ones, my friends, and those in the community. I pondered how we do better to help those who cannot help themselves.
The answers are not in this writing. I do not know if we have the answers. I do know that I can reach out more often to others, check in on them, and listen to them. Perhaps if we all do that, we can save some more and keep the weeds in check.