Finding Joy in the Weeds

Our farmer is harvesting wheat today. I swear I am like a kid that hears the ice cream truck; I go running outside waving like a lunatic at him and hoping he spots me so I can get a wave back (coincidentally, I do the same thing when I hear a small aircraft flying over the house). Even at 44, those little things bring me so much joy.

What are things that bring you joy? Maybe you find joy when indulging in the yummy flavors of ice cream at the Village Creamery in downtown Brooklyn. Maybe for you, your joy is found in casting a line at one of the many lakes in the Irish Hills area or flying a kite in the open fields in Grass Lake. If you are from Jackson, maybe your joy is found in visiting the dogs at Cascades Humane Society or in a COVID free world, it’s dining next to Iron Man at Klavon’s.

One of the places I find joy is in the tough stuff of life. I know! Remember, I am the waving lunatic. Perspective tends to drive my joy and there is no better time to find perspective and cling to it like a life raft than when we are in deep waters where our feet go beyond the safety of the shore. When I am going through the tough stuff of life, which I think we can all say to some point we are in the midst of right now, I cling to perspective and it’s in those dark times, where my joy usually resides.

One of those times for me was last year when my heart dog, Max, was diagnosed with cancer. Our world basically stopped as we shifted our focus from summer fun to research and treatments. We had 2 priorities. God and Max. I will never forget when joy slapped me in the face like a fly swatter last year as we went through this tough time as a family.

One early morning last summer I had gone out early when the grass was still wet to mow the lawn because I really wanted to get a head start before the hot weather came in so I jumped on orange julius (aka my zero turn tractor) and mowed my little heart out. Our lawn was way over due for a haircut. This time of year we usually have to cut it twice a week to avoid the dreaded big grass clumps and it had been at least 2 weeks since we did any yard work at all since we were so focused on research and treatments for our dog. Everything was overgrown and our lawn was more of a field of grass and wildflowers than nice turf. The grass was so tall I kept thinking I had ticks climbing up my shins and I'd do a little "tick dance" (aka flailing, screaming and jumping) as if I were being attacked. Alas, it was just tall grass and an overly excited and buggy imagination.

I put on my noise canceling headphones and tuned in to my favorite country radio station. That morning, the radio waves were a bit funky because I kept getting 2 radio stations at once. It was a mixture of country radio and a catholic morning church service so I'd hear, “Look what God gave her, How perfect He made her, She walks in the room, It's like He answered my prayers" and then, “united in the bond of the Lord, thanks be to God". It was entertaining to say the least.

It took me a few hours to mow that morning and then I took some time to trim back a huge tree that was making it impossible to pull safely out of our driveway. I filled the bird feeders that had gone empty and then grabbed my camera to get some shots of our property while everyone rested inside.

As I was walking around taking pictures, I noticed how everything had bloomed and had grown over the past 2 weeks. I had missed our Tiger Lillies blooming and hadn’t noticed our Black Eyed Susans making their summer entrance. As I walked around the property, it made me appreciate the wonderment of time. Before our dog, Max’s, diagnosis, I would spend time pruning & watering and being hopeful for things to bloom. Then, my focus changed and time still went by. Tick tock. Tick tock. The hours of the clock still moved. The numbers kept turning over and time continued on.

But, on this special day when I was outside, as I walked around and noticed how everything had grown, I also noticed how many weeds we had in our landscaping and in the flower beds. Normally, I would have totally freaked out. I don’t like weeds and I like things to look well maintained and crisp. But, on this day, my perspective was different.  I saw the empty bird’s nest where two doves were born and fledged just the day before. I saw Daisies in full bloom and gorgeous pink blooms on our Hydrangea bush.

On that day, I noticed that all around these gorgeous flowering plants were a crap ton of weeds, but today, I didn't see weeds. I saw time. I had been able to spend an immense amount of time caring for our 4 legged black and white heart dog and those weeds represent love, care, nurturing, laughter, tears (a lot of tears) and the greatest gift of all... time.

That day last year, those weeds added to the lustrous blooms, the over grown yet still lovely bushes, and the tall over grown grass and they reminded me of the precious minute by minute time that I have spent with my loved ones while those weeds took their time to grow. Tick tock. Minute by minute. It was all about perspective for me. When I found my perspective, I found my joy. When I found those weeds I found the joy that grew right there beside them.

There will always be tomorrow. Even in heaven I imagine there are tomorrows. Amidst COVID, stress at work, and amongst the weeds, there will always be joy to be found. There will always be tomorrow to pluck a weed, to tend to the lawn, to fight with someone on social media about wearing their mask. But today, let’s find our joy. Hold onto perspective my friends. Fly that kite. Cast that line. Eat some ice cream and find joy in the weeds.   

 xoxo,

Brenda