A Liminal Space

To our sons, it looks like a field that needs bush-hogging, but if you look closely in the thick mess of overgrown weeds, you’ll find the reasons we decided not to mow it down. All the beautiful spots of color and diversity—dried-out grass and half-alive flowers. If we just leave them alone for a little while longer, they will die and dry out, sending more seeds into the ground, and next year we might see more flowers. They might not look like much, but they serve an important purpose. Ask the honey bees and the hummingbirds still buzzing around, getting their nourishing nectar. It all has a purpose, even though so many of these flowers just appeared and reproduced over time. Some of the plants were put there with intention. The mimosa that was just a tiny plant has grown into a massive tree providing shade. The artichokes bloom and provide beauty, and later will be made into pickles for my husband to eat. Everything has a purpose, and we get to be a part of it. A friend said to me recently that it isn’t the soil’s or plant’s or the animals’ fault that things are a mess. It’s not their fault that we
sometimes forget we belong to each other. Sometimes I get so tired and want to just get angry at where I am. I project my fear, regrets, and shame onto everything around me. It can all look like such a mess until I slow down and notice the beauty amongst the weeds. Slow down and notice. There’s so much more than we really do see.