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Grass

I cut the grass this morning; a quick sneak between bouts of rain. Our yard is so small that it only takes a weed whacker to take care of it. Cutting the grass this way always tickles me because it truly shines a light on my tendency for perfection. I go over it again and again and again. Every blade must be cut in uniform!

With each visual scan of the yard, no matter how many times, a new patch left untrimmed is revealed. I have a preference to stand in one spot to look over the work in progress. Ah, but then there are the edges of the yard. To get to the parameters, I actually have to move away from my self proclaimed island.

Once the borders are complete, I look back at the yard from a new area and realize, the lawn looks pretty good, except for where I was originally standing. A tuft of long grass, just about the width of my two feet, marks the spot.




I learned that when I get out of my own way, my perspective shifts to a broader view, something different from before. I learned that part of life is understanding where you stand.

Look at where you stand. Why are you standing there? What do you see? What would you see if you stood somewhere else? Where is your focus, out there or in here? It's a delicate balance, isn't it? Sometimes the work that is to be done is right under your feet.

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