Spring come early this year. Yesterday, we finally mow and trim the yard. If it hasn’t been raining, the mower has had problems. “Don’t spray Round-up along the fence,” I tell my husband. “You’ll kill my daylilies.” He gives me a look of disbelief. I’m not sure if he didn’t believe anything could survive under all those weeds, or if he didn’t believe I would get my happy butt outside to pull weeds.
Have you ever heard of chickweed? It grows in the spring like a carpet, covering everything. That’s been my chore today, pulling up the chickweed.
I’m not so great at squatting down, so I start out on my knees. When my back gives out, I find a long-handled garden cultivator in the shed and use it like a rake. After a while, I catch my rhythm of rolling the chickweed forward like a blanket and then lifting it into the wheel barrel. And I get lost in thought. Naturally my thoughts are about writing.
Weeding is a process of uncovering what lies beneath. While I clear away unwanted plants (weeds are plants, aren’t they? I’m pretty they are not just little extraterrestrial plagues, although I can be wrong.), I find my daylilies just barely poking out of the green carpet. I find grubs, earth worms, a whole farm of ants (that isn’t such a fun experience), and some petunias that have come up from last years’ flats. I see oak seedlings with the acorn shell still attached. I find that some of my bugleweed has died, but that all of my hostas have survived the winter and even multiplied.
I think writing is a lot like a good weeding process, especially in the area of journaling or writing the first draft of a story. With journaling, I write what I feel about at that moment. Sometimes it surprises me when I process my emotions. I realize when I have been looking to others to validate me rather than looking to my Higher Power and my own self-approval. I figure out why I feel aggravated or angry after I’ve spent some time thinking on paper.
Many times the metaphor of weeding is used for the editing process, but strangely, today my weeding and writing thoughts are more about discovery than revision. Maybe that is because I am on my first draft of my first book. Right now I am learning as I write what my story is really about.
Weeding and writing have something else in common. They both require regular attention. If I ignore my yard, I know that I will have a multitude of weeds threatening to overcome my perennials and annuals. (Believe me, it happens quite a bit in my yard.) If I ignore my writing, things like continued procrastination, unawareness, and even shame mount up. I miss out on whole new worlds and insights if my writing stagnates.
A mentor from the MTSU Writers’ Loft, Terry Price, compares writing with feeding goats.
What about you? Do you have a comparison for writing with something else in your life? I’d love to hear it.
My Best,
Karen
please don't spray round-up on anything ....
ReplyDeletethat stuff is way too toxic for our beautiful earth ...
Paz y Amor