The Flowering, Unwanted Weed
When, seemingly, unflattering times of growth lead to beauty
I kept seeing it— that weed in my yard. But time, laziness, perhaps, and other responsibilities kept me from pulling it from the earth. It grew taller— its height amplified my annoyance— a flaw of flaws! I became fearful of the HOA. I looked again today and it is flowering. It's presently quite lovely. This raises all sorts of questions and delight.
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This poem could be about many things, and feel free to interpret it your way, but it tells me something about growth.
It would be nice if growth were always beautiful, but sadly, it’s not. Like the weed that eventually flowered, sometimes our seasons of growth aren’t the most attractive. When something is maturing from seed, it takes time. Our lives aren’t like landscape nurseries where we can simply buy already-flowering plants—I wish it were that simple! Often these seasons of growth yield little external validation, and we don’t perform as we may have just months before. They are hard, but necessary.
This idea that we must always be producing, always productive, can erode our spiritual lives and, even more, damage our understanding of our intrinsic worth—the market wants more, the church wants more, and work wants more. This tugging sensation can frustrate the natural patterns of things—we cannot always do what we desire to do because we are constantly changing or being changed, even ever so slightly. This week, I have some clarity, and I’ve written more than usual—but for me this is an exception.
I’ve heard that famed poet Rainer Maria Rilke himself went months, even a ten-year period, without writing a single poem. It was not writer’s block (says Google AI); it was for growth and for ideas to gestate.
I make appointments to write poetry. Sometimes nothing happens; other times, like in the poem above, my day is interrupted by inspiration, and I write in the corner of my kitchen while everything else is in motion. I write weekly, but they aren’t always my favorite poems.
I wish everything fit properly, congruent with my desired timeline, but this doesn’t happen as easily, even during seasons when I find I’m more disciplined. To echo Hartmut Rosa, life is a bit uncontrollable. This is beautiful while also frustrating.
Starting from seed or seasons of growth might look like going back to school, picking up a new hobby, stepping into a new area of focus at work, or beginning a new project. A flower will likely bloom, but it might take a season of growth.
If you are in a season of growth, know that you are not alone and that flowers are likely in your future.
If you are growing, keep going,
-Drew