It’s almost that time of year again, the season of Dandelions.
I have a love/hate relationships with Dandelions.
I don’t really have a lawn. It’s more of mountain grass that grows around my house. I mow it once a week during the summer, but it’s definitely not Kentucky Blue Grass. Yet it’s still infected with Dandelions.
I can’t spray the dang weeds because if my horses get out and eat the Dandelions, they will ingest the toxins and get very sick.
I’ve learned to live with Dandelions. By midsummer my grass is full of thousands of little white halos that spread their seeds with the slightest breeze.
I must say they are the hardiest flower on the planet. Mow them and the next day they’re back and multiplied. Try to weed them by hand, and they break by the root. Spray them with Round Up and you’re the one that ends up with cancer. You just can’t get rid of Dandelions.
Since I can’t seem to get rid of them, I’ve come to respect them. They’re a metaphor for my life. In the same way they can’t be picked, plucked, or poisoned, neither will I. As they constantly bounce back from seeming adversity, so will I. As they flower and spread their seeds, so I try to spread my ideas. The dandelion never gives up, goes away, or is discouraged. I want this to be how I live my life. I never want to give up, go away, or be discouraged.
I want to be a Dandelion.
The next time you see the yellow, wide-leafed, cursed little weed I want you to think of me. Maybe you can join me in their stubborn resilience. Next time life swacks you down and mows you over remember the Dandelion and bounce back. Spread your little yellow face of sunshine. Then stretch your arms and with a gentle breeze blow your white brilliance to the wind.
It’s the best revenge you can have on those who want you to go away. Follow the example of the Dandelion: smile, dig your roots down, and refuse to break. You’ll surely blossom forever.