There have been those moments in my life’s journey where I hear something that I actually pay attention to. One of those moments came 30 some years ago from a conversation with one of the truly gifted Elders I have known—Ada Beth. I don’t remember the context of the conversation but she said, “You grow where you are planted”. Perhaps that was her way of inviting me put down roots in the San Luis Valley. We did, and it was a life changing experience.
Most every Saturday I go to a 12-step meeting held in the center of Denver at the church I served for 18 years. I find my favorite parking space, which is in the shade which is sparse. About a month ago I noticed as I was getting out of the car, a weed growing in the pavement. My inclination was to pull it but I resisted. I admired its tenacity to “grow where it was planted”. Today there it was— slowly growing in an asphalt desert. SEE THE PICTURE ABOVE.
I adopted a weed. Now in Colorado, there has been a long relationship with humans and plants, which sometimes go by the nickname of Weed. I looked around and this single plant is a loner. There was not another sprout in sight in the rather large parking lot. I have yet to give this brave little life a name. It did not choose where it was planted, rather some random seed found its way into a pavement crack. I have marveled many times where trees decide to grow in the mountains. I know that over time, that plant life in all forms breaks down big rocks into gravel over a very long time…I guess it would be the same fate for parking lots.
I debated as I was leaving the parking lot if I should give the plant a drink. The decision was to let nature take its course. I won’t be there again until July 5th. Currently, it is supposed to be 103’ tomorrow and the church is hosting a concert on the lawn adjacent to the parking lot. So in the ‘grow where you are planted world’ it’s certainly full of its challenges.
I was pondering why I find this weed so interesting and I think I found my answer. For the last year since getting out of my most recent hospitalization, I feel a bit like a potted plant. I spend a lot of time in my space. It takes a lot more time, energy and help to achieve mobility. After spending a weekend with friends I have known for 58 years, I came to a conclusion that time past age 75 demands a reboot.
So I now bond with Ragweed… and I could do worse. When it shows up for its pollination extravaganza in August, I will pause to remember that all those little future weeds are just looking for a place to grow.
Onward and Upward,
Mark
Lyfting Me Up 