Pulling Weeds

Friday finds me reeling from a conversation I just had and shared with the weeds in the garden who just don't care about how I pull them up and that is comforting because a body can get very tired of scrutiny of every small choice. Are these choices mine to make or are they just choices that open up further discussion and I should be okay with that. Sometimes I am, sometimes my anger and frustration at the process well up in me and I would like to calmly set down the phone and walk out the door into the garden where my actions will go unnoticed. Don't tell me you respect me as the authority on this topic and then proceed to dismantle everything I present. It's demoralizing and it could drive me to drink or worse walk away into oblivion somewhere and yearn for a life where I don't have to interact with anyone. That would be fine with me, I do not fear alone, I relish it. But no, I am a peace maker and I want to get the job done and I want there to be an underlying sense that everyone was heard and I will compromise. I am capable of compromise but on some points I will not bend and when I think I am being inflexible I think back to times when I was encouraged to do certain things and I did them and the results were positive. I will fall back on those choices, I will resurrect those scenarios and follow those rules that were laid out by people who's opinions I respected and I will look back and say I did that and I like and I can do it again. I still like pulling weeds though, because no one judges you for pulling them, they just say, good for you, you showed those weeds who was the boss.