Enjoying the weeds

These "weeds" have taken over our entire entranceway: they share the big stone planters with the lilac and the dwarf maple and cluster flagrantly (and I don't mean fragrantly; they don't seem to have any aroma) around the driftwood, mingling with the lavender and the rosemary and the california poppies, making us look like the gardeners we definitely are not!

Who decides what flowers are weeds? And why would we ever yank them out? They add color and charm and a kind of random lushness I find totally endearing.

It's our anniversary today, and over lunch at the pub (we don't get an anniversary dinner because I have rehearsal) we were wondering: how much of our behavior and decisions comes as a result of societal training and dictates? How much of what we suppress -- behavioral weeds -- is really an integral part of what makes us unique and fun to be around? How much of what we were taught before we were aware we were capable of judging -- like, for example, that early edict: Big Boys Don't Cry -- is really crippling us?

Just a thought -- some "weeds" can be awfully appealing. Another opportunity for mindfulness, I think: pay attention to what behaviors, thoughts, words you suppress. What if they actually need to be seen or heard; what if they would liven up the world in a good way?

Just wondering...