Even Weeds Belong Somewhere

My whole life, I’ve felt as though I didn’t quite fit in. So much so, that at some point I gave up trying. In fact, these days I seem to have gone to the other end of the bell curve entirely. I kind of delight in being out in left field most of the time.

Except when I’m feeling vulnerable. When I’m tired, I feel much more insecure. When I’m improperly dressed at a party, and have no idea which fork to use, I’m not going to lie–that kind of sucks.

But it isn’t anyone else telling me that I don’t fit in. It’s entirely me. And it’s based on some pretty arbitrary social rules. It always makes me think of weeds. I’m a weed.

During my young adult life, I lived in a town called Apopka, which called itself the “Indoor Foliage Capital of the World.” (I wonder if they still do? It’s been many decades since I’ve been back.) Back then, you couldn’t throw a rock in that town without shattering a greenhouse window. It made me look at plants in an entirely new way.

It amazed me how much people were willing to pay for stuff that you can find growing entirely wild somewhere or other. People do love the exotic, but even exotic things have to be commonplace in some location, or they wouldn’t exist.

So, a weed is simply something that doesn’t fit in. It’s not where it’s supposed to be. Worse case scenario, it’s invasive. But that’s not the weed’s fault. It never asked to be uprooted. There it was, minding its own business in its natural habitat, when some fool decided to send it half way across the world without considering the consequences. And then the name calling begins. (Damned weed. Get out of my yard! We don’t want you here!)

So it’s all about perspective and location. We all have our place. It’s just a matter of finding it. So maybe as you walk along the path of your life, try being a little less judge-y of the other living things that you encounter who are feeling out of place. They, too, have their journey. Just sayin’.


Read any good books lately? Try mine! http://amzn.to/2mlPVh5


Well, I Never!

I overheard someone say that the other day. I’ve probably heard it a thousand times in my life without really giving it much thought. But the fact is, never is a very long time.

You never… what exactly?

…heard anything so outrageous? Poppycock. We are living in an increasingly outrageous world. You may have blocked out the outrageous things you’ve heard in the past, but trust me, you’ve heard them, unless you were born in a bubble.

…have been so disappointed? Well, if that’s true, then you are luckier than the average person. People can and will let you down. Some people actually make a sport out of it.

…have been so insulted? Where have you been hiding, amongst the Stepford Wives? Life is messy and people can be rude.

I hate the phrase, “Well, I never!” because to me it seems like a get out of jail free card of sorts. It’s a way of expressing outrage without having to explain yourself. It’s like passing judgment without having to write the accompanying opinion. And worse yet, in my view, it’s a way to make you seem like a delicate flower, when, in fact, we’re all weeds.

There’s no shame in being a weed. Weeds have staying power. They persevere. They carry on. And they don’t wear their hearts on their weedy little sleeves.

Next time someone says, “Well, I never!” I’m going to respond, “Well, perhaps you should.”


Well I never

Read any good books lately? Try mine! http://amzn.to/2mlPVh5