In the Weeds & Literal Roses

We’re in the weeds. All of us. Some of us much deeper in than others.

The trick about being in the weeds is that we often don’t know how far in we’ve gone until we’re completely entangled, stuck.

These weeds aren’t so bad, I think, They’re not weeds at all, I say: They’re dandelions, and violets and tiny clovers!

We can find beauty - even in these weeds - right?

Then one morning I wake up, and I’ve drifted into the bramble; and frankly, I’m a bit annoyed that no one warned me about this thicket!

(But maybe they did warn me and I wasn’t listening)

At the same time, there are actual roses.

There are eye-popping reds and yellows and every shade of pink roses, their sweet fragrance a gut-punch of awe.

And the roses are so close.

These literal roses. They are in full bloom.

There’s a whole garden of them, in fact, just a few blocks away.

I don’t know about you, but when I’m caught in the weeds it doesn’t matter how close the roses are — they feel out of reach.

Luckily, this is not my first brush in the bramble.

I mean that. Every day of this pandemic, I am thankful for my past experiences in the weeds.

I know when it’s time to dial a friend (or a therapist) — Or to open the physical door and walk a few miles to the ocean, or just a few blocks to the roses.

To breath in the outside air - salty and sweet - even through my gauzy-scarf-mask.

How motion brings me out of my head and into the world.

“I think I get it” I told Dan, before falling asleep last night:

“If there’s a bustle in your hedgerow, don’t be alarmed now, it’s just a a spring clean for the May Queen”

“It’s about movement, and not being scared — It’s about rebirth, revelation.”

I said it like I was picking up a thread of an interrupted conversation — though “What do you make of the Stairway to Heaven lyrics?” is not an actual conversation we’ve ever had.

But it’s an implied conversation, right?

When our partners and our relationships are being tested - in this pressure cooker of a pandemic - maybe one of them is simply tumbling over Led Zeppelin lyrics, trying their best to parse out some meaning, to find their way out of the tall hedgerow.

And the kindest thing to do isn’t to ask what or why, but to simply reply, as Dan did:

“There are two paths you can go by, but in the long run, there’s still time to change the road you’re on.”

Yes, And it makes me wonder.

Wishing everyone consolation this week - even a whiff - of sweetness.