Sunday, November 29, 2009

Weeding it out

The weed didn't choose to be a weed. It didn't choose to grow in a pot that already had a more desirable plant in it. The wind just carried its seed there. It had no choice but to grow. Unwanted. It only tried to live. Drank it's nourishment from the soil. Basked in the glory of the sun. That it slowly began killing the other plant, the one that was potted with love, was perhaps not intentional. Or was it?

Is it the weeds fault that its a weed? Perhaps not. Would it be a better living being if it didn't kill the other plant in the bargain? But then it wouldn't have fulfilled the job of a weed, would it now? 

I don't feel great pulling out the weed. But it IS killing the other plant. One that was a vibrant red, and flourished merrily in the first few months is beginning to look more and more frail now. It's space being taken over by another being. Its water being absorbed before it can get to it. The rays of the sun being blocked by the tall stems of the weed. The parasite. 

We simply plant the unwanted guest in another pot. The weed didn't choose to be a weed, after all. 

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Of glasses and more.

I wonder sometimes about the glass being half empty or half full. Not because I’m trying to figure where I stand on the optimistic scale…but because I’d like to know which way I would’ve seen it if I didn’t know the psychobabble behind it. Who doesn’t?!

 

I’d like to think of myself as a positive person. Heck, I think I might  even be tipping dangerously towards the “its all going to be great” side of the scale. The tarot deck might refer to it as “the fool”, a card I get very often in my readings. It’s the image of a boy walking merrily, not knowing he’s standing at the very end of a cliff. He couldn’t care less though. Between gravity and good karma, it’s karma that always wins and his chances of falling head first are one in infinity.

 

I remember reading in ‘the secret life of bees’, that people start out one way but don’t often turn out the same. True. I’ve always believed that things have a way of working out. And part of that belief has come from the fact that it’s something that’s always happened. I’m not sure how, but it always has.

 

Back to the half full glass, or half empty, is it?

When I racked my pretty lil brains about who this experiment might possibly work on…the answer flat out was ‘anyone who doesn’t know about the theory’. Like duh. Problem is… its one of the first few things you learn about life when you do personality tests or Type A or type B tests and what not. (I’m type A if I remember correctly). It’s a trick question that everyone knows the answer to. Doesn’t seem so tricky then, does it? If by some stroke of genius you did manage to catch a child before someone spoiled the fun by telling him the rationale behind this lil trick, I don’t even know if his or her vocabulary would be enough to render the experiment conclusive. Assuming our bright little lab rat says “where’s the rest of the water?”..does it mean he’s wildly upset about the glass not being full or curious when it will be. I know, makes no sense to me either.

 

Now whenever I’m taking one of these fun personality quizzes (they never get old, really.). Are you a born millionaire? Are you a good lover? Are you the life of the party? Do you have a penis that all other men envy, …kinda tests…you’ve already figured by the third question which of the a) b) or c) is going to give you the desired personality type. And if they’ve been clever enough to not make the results that apparent…one picks the most flattering ones anyway.

 

A part of me wants to erase the knowledge of the full glass test. In another life perhaps I’d object wildly if anyone even tried to educate me on the matter before I could take an unbiased test myself. Since that’s not about to happen anytime soon, unless a wave of amnesia hits me ( and here I sincerely hope it doesn’t), I’m going to continue being the fool from the tarot deck who might be innocent, but is atleast in the able hands of his dear friend. Fate.

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