To Yank or Not to Yank

The dandelions are back. Last year, I considered every physical challenge carefully, evaluating it's impact on my tricky lower back. Digging out dandelions didn't make the cut. I was not about to risk of losing my summer to back pain over a temporary problem.

One Saturday morning, I went to a memorial service, and when I arrived home, the dandelions were gone. I felt relieved that we wouldn't be perceived as the trash of the neighborhood, and thanked my husband for the wonderful surprise.

"I didn't do it," he said, "I think you know who did."

The neighbors. The ones who inspired the blog, No Put Downs, Just Put Ups.

My interactions with them have brought me to the bleeding edge of my spiritual growth. I have learned much from them in the last year. All of it has been painful. I am not grateful. I do not like this pain. I do not want to soften and heal. I want them to move. I never get that lucky.

I have felt attacked by their words, their actions, their offspring.

On that sunny Saturday in May last year, they depleted my lawn of dandelions, without asking. I'm sure they thought they meant well. They were doing something nice which also protected their lawn from our dandelion spawn. Funnily enough, they hosted a large gathering at their home a couple of days later. I rewarded them with a pie, and my silence. I have avoided speaking to them for a year.

I must remember that the key to successfully doing something for someone else is that they not find out who did it. Otherwise, it feels disrespectful, such as, you do not have the skills or the smarts or the money to do the job right, so I will do it for you. I am better than you. I know what's best. The person receiving this kind of help, ends up helpless, and in my case, embarrassed and angry.

I spent the fall and winter lifting weights at the gym. I am on my way. I am strong. I have more physical options when it comes to my back. So, I purchased a weed puller. Ingenious gadget. There are nails stuck to a stick that you step on and then pull up the weed.

I started focusing on the dandelions. With the first 50 or so, I repeated the mantra, screw you. I was meditating on attack. This can't be good, I thought.

When I finished yanking for the day, I went in the house, and, instead of feeling a sense of accomplishment, I felt even more irritable. Worse yet, every time I blinked my eyes, I saw the imprint of dandelion leaves on my eyes. The image had burned onto my eyeballs like computer screen without a screen saver.

I had to ask myself, why am I doing this? Is this the same as popping zits on my face? It seems like I am taking care of myself, but I am creating scars and spreading bacteria? Am I doing this for myself or to keep them out of my yard?

Clearly, I am conflicted not just about the dandelions and neighbors. The importance of appearance rears it's ugly head, again.

A couple of days ago, I decided to deal only with the dandelions that had produced a flower. This felt more manageable, and I had a sense of accomplishment when I finished. I thought of it as maintenance instead of punishment. I actually had fun.

There are plenty more out there today. To yank, or not to yank? This is the question.