Weeding with gratitude

It happened so quickly.

A friend told me about the trip she was planning with her family this summer. Exotic and adventurous, beautiful and luxurious, her plans sounded wonderful. While I joined her in the joyful fantasy of her plans, seeds of less pleasant emotions took hold. Before I knew it, I was battling with jealousy and self pity. 

The self pity was particularly robust. It sent tendrils out to squash the joy. It reached to tighten my muscles, turned the corners of my mouth down, drooped my shoulders, shortened my fuse with my own family.

It took a moment before I was aware this was happening. The part of me that was still untouched by the growing weed watched it with detachment. What would I do?

Certainly, like any weed, the best thing would be to reach down and pull it out by the roots. Throw it away so it never takes hold again. But like any weed, sometimes even when we try to do that, we just end up cutting off the stems and leaves. And at least, be able to focus on the more desirable plants in the garden, allow them to grow.

I decided to go weeding. I actively called to mind the summer plans I have made - weeks of relaxation and calm. Staying closer to home so that we could enjoy time with family and pets and avoid the hectic demands of distant travel. I was also able to appreciate the conversation I was having with my friend, appreciating the connection there. Slowly, I noticed the feelings of self pity dissipate.

And I found myself looking forward to the summer for both my friend and myself.