Tumbleweeds
I read an interesting article describing how tumbleweeds (Russian Thistle, Salsola tragus) have been known to pile up in giant heaps around people’s homes in the arid west. They become so entangled that homeowners become trapped inside with no way to exit. The blockade of tumbleweeds creates a thick wall of, as the author describes, “twisted balls of dead foliage.” Homeowners must wear special gloves and use tools to cut and carve their way out to freedom.
I find this fascinating, and I like this vision as an analogy for how we can become trapped by our own “twisted balls of dead foliage” — the clutter, the objects, the possessions that we cling to, long after they have served their purpose. We have lofty plans to reuse, share, or save for some future opportunity, which rarely presents itself. When and if it does, it likely brings a fleeting moment of joy or pleasure, but is it worth the weight of carrying it for so long? Is it worth the energy of navigating life around things that are basically trapping us and blocking us from our natural progression and evolution?
I see people isolate themselves from the world outside, missing out on experiences and love due to their paralysis by what they own, the mental and physical fatigue they experience while trying to manage their stuff, and their resistance to just letting things go.
Much like the flower on the tumbleweed, our material possessions and our precious lives are impermanent. There will be a time when all of our things will become useless. The iconic scene of the tumbleweed rolling along a lonely desert road reminds me of the impermanence of all we own.
Take time to discover your own “tumbleweeds” and set yourself free.
“Tell me what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”