As I was yanking up weeds (and more and more weeds) this morning, I started to think about “life”. Not as in “the meaning of life”, not as in “oh well, that’s life”, but life in the “biological life force –omnipresent continuity” kind of sense.
Life is such a powerful thing. Life is so persistent and tenacious, that there are living organisms clinging to existence inside volcanic vents, and places more hostile than one can imagine. Just when you think there can be nothing – there is always “something”.
The beautiful “chaos” of life is always encroaching on our careful, orderly human ways. As lichen on a boulder, or a dandelion pushing up through a sidewalk crack, life always finds a way. When weeds are yanked up – they grow back. Cut down certain trees – they send up new shoots from the root. If a meadow lies fallow – the forest soon reclaims it. Life keeps on keepin’on and overcomes every obstacle.
I think it says something about how we should approach our own lives as well. Am I a delicate hothouse orchid that withers quickly in adversity? Or am I a tenacious dandelion or even a stinkweed that clings to life in a strip mine pit? Am I a rose – carefully cultivated, or am I a wild thing pushing up through the ash of a volcanic wasteland? Some pine trees only open their cones to scatter their seeds when seared by the heat of a forest fire.
I think some “people” are like that too – they take adversity and turn it into new life. They may not be cultivated, and they may not be conventional, but then again… some of the prettiest blossoms are wildflowers.
Just thought I'd share