The last thing I want to do is inundate your feeds with yet another post about springtime. If you’re anything like me, you find the onslaught of “fresh start” messaging to be…tedious. Instead of feeling like blooming buds and warming winds these never-ending well wishes start to feel less like flowers and more like…weeds.
And I don’t know about you, but my humble little gardens tend to become swiftly overrun with unwanted and unwelcome tenants that while surely evergreen are not on par with my aesthetic design.
Weeds.
They’re annoying. They’re disruptive. And they are RELENTLESS!
(…though there is a funny catharsis to the monotony of channeling all frustration into aggressively pulling weeds from the root…)
As an overachieving perfectionist with obsessive tendencies, I struggle to balance my need for absolute organization with the call to respect nature as an empowering force. I hold tightly to my vision of excellence and refuse to believe that anything as insidious as a weed may also be considered beautiful.
Alas. This is yoga.
For so many, stepping onto the yoga mat comes with an expectation of practice. We find need to curate and craft an experience so perfectly serene that by the time we settle into savasana we are washed of all the things that make us human. And while we may think of yoga as the gardener, a thoughtful caregiver refueling with replenishing nutrients, we must also think of practice itself as the garden: both a beautiful oasis of sweet smells and calming peace AND ALSO a nightmare hellscape filled with pesky trials just waiting to pop up when least expected.
Much as any gardener learns to accept, yoga teaches us that even weeds have their place. In nature, weeds offer a level of biodiversity that without, we’d lose the pretty peonies and sweet sunflowers that highlight our summer. Without invasion, insects would struggle to find ports to pollinate and without challenge, entire strains would fail to adapt for longevity, dying out. While ugly and uninvited, weeds are actually a vital part of natural infrastructure and development.
Without the push to evolve, all that grows…doesn’t.
Y’all, we need weeds. In our yards and in ourselves. We need reason to rally, to readjust, and to rethink. We need stimulation in order to grow in alignment with the sunshine that both brightens our vision and illuminates our potential…learning to hold compassion for all that we cannot change and experiencing gratitude for the lessons learned along the way.
XOXO,
Haley