I’ve been working on a small but somewhat tedious creative project lately. The long-drawn-out revisions and rehashing have been important, time-consuming and enormously frustrating. It has been a mire of my own making, which makes it all the more irritating because I have nothing and no one to blame other than myself!
Late last week, approaching this long weekend I had a few hours of wholly unproductive ‘work’, restarting, erasing, rewording, redesigning, and reconceptualising. You name it I re-did it because nothing I did seemed quite right. After countless hours I abandoned the work in favour of a much-needed session of garden weeding I’d been putting off for weeks.
Before proceeding, it’s worth noting that in Australia, weeds are highly contentious. You only have to google ‘weeds in Australia’ to find pages and pages of references to the various invasive weed species that proliferate the once untouched native habitat. The topic of weeds, and the definition of weeds, require some vigorous interrogation. The topic of weeds in Australia and the socio-cultural underpinnings of weediness is the makings of a Ph.D., I’ll spare you. Instead, let’s use the simple Oxford definition of weeds, “a wild plant growing where it is not wanted and in competition with cultivated plants”.
Now, I’m no botanist, but a glance at the gardens around us, including our own (rented) garden, tells me that most of what I see are in fact, cultivated… weeds. Agapanthus, Arum Lilies, Syngonium and Tradescantia are within a few feet of each other. They are actually classified as environmental weeds, but planted, I mean cultivated, by well-meaning gardeners. I digress, however, because the weeds I decided to tackle were far less complicated, with no tuberous roots, just grasses, clover and tiny plants growing between the cracks in the pebbled garden path that someone cultivated, or designed, or landscaped. Either way, clearly these little green shoots have no business growing in the cracks, and before the neighbours caught sight of the unruly garden, I had to take matters into my own hands. I also needed the distraction.
To be fair, I enjoy the meditative quality of a good weeding session. It requires a focused and repetitive movement that allows you to mentally zone out. I saw a woman weeding a few weeks ago in her garden along the local main road. She was lying down outstretched on a steep lawn-lined driveway. Her hands reached out meticulously plucking tiny weeds from the lawn, unidentifiable to passers-by like us, but very noticeable to her. She looked very content, she was completely in the zone. That road was exceptionally busy, and she seemed impervious to the din of traffic attending the local market. She looked, dare I say it, serene. She was like a concrete Grecian water nymph washed up on the perfect lawn.
Quite unlike a water nymph, I listened to a podcast and got to work weeding the path. After about an hour the light started to fade, as did my resolve to get to the tiny roots, I was hastily grabbing shoots and leaving the roots to regrow and my hands were getting muddy because I didn’t have the patience to find the garden gloves. A whiff of indignation hung in the air. Why was I saving face with the neighbours I don’t even know? I reasoned with myself that it was exercise and fresh air. But, as I plucked a tuft of grass from its perfect lodgings, it shot a spiney little seed directly into my eye. Retribution. My vision remained intact mercifully, but my enthusiasm continued to wane. It was the familiar itch of a mosquito bite that sealed my fate. I retreated to the sofa leaving piles of weeds along the path, evidence of my hard work, evidence of my diligent cultivation for the neighbours.
While tending to the weeds, I couldn't help but think about the weeds as a metaphor. Another nature analogy, I can’t help myself. If we were to adjust the meaning of "weed" and apply it to our own lives, we might uncover parts of our lives, that stand in the way of our intended path or values. Similarly, we could benefit from removing extraneous clutter, which left unchecked, like weeds can spread and accumulate. If we look at our lives as ecosystems, we have the endemic species, ourselves, our original state of being. We cultivate our garden, the peripheral parts of our lives, our interactions with others and perhaps the choices we make. The weeds could be seen as the outside influences that creep in, albeit unintentionally, they may seem manageable at first, desirable even. Ultimately, the weeds grow, we forget to tend to the garden, and something that may have appeared harmless at first becomes unwieldy.
What led me to do the weeding was failed 'productivity.' I spent hours pushing myself to complete a creative task that had long been overtaken by fatigue and a lack of clarity. The time I had set aside for the project loomed ahead of me, and instead of acknowledging my limitations, I forged ahead, driven by the need to be productive, all the while unaware of the fruitlessness of my efforts. I’m usually all too aware of the pitfalls of mindlessly chasing an outcome. Somehow, I became quite oblivious and ignored all the signals I would usually notice, frustration, lagging attention and distraction.
Even though the act of weeding itself was somewhat thwarted what with the mosquito bite and grass seed aggression, in the end, it was worth abandoning my post at the computer to take a break from the pursuit of something which at that point was unattainable. The focus on the outcome rather than the process had become a weed in my creative garden.
Now, to identify more weeds, cultivate more awareness, and avoid militant grass.
Natures notes is proudly written on and inspired by Dharawal Country. I recognise the Dharawal & Wodi Wodi custodians and ancestors who have an enduring connection to land, water and skies.
Always Was and Always Will be Aboriginal Land.
"I spent hours pushing myself to complete a creative task that had long been overtaken by fatigue and a lack of clarity." This sounds so so true! Thank you for putting in words what I experience far too often. Stunning photography in this piece by the way, it really drew me in.