The Day After
Pulling weeds is the worst. Pulling weeds is the best. It is cathartic, if you let it. I let it. For the first time ever, I let it. Rake your workspace, prepare it. Take knees to dirt and bend your back. Hands enter soil and fingers grasp root. It’s a gentle movement, to be sure, but firm and deadly. Satisfaction as root exits earth like the head of a tick from beloved dog.
Catharsis
“Why are you pulling these oxygen giving gifts of nature?” “Because pulling weeds is a metaphor for taking responsibility for all of the things in your life.” Tears, tears, tears.
Rereading a thousand times over. I wrote the most beautiful thing I’d ever read.
Freedom. Learning. Love.
No comments:
Post a Comment