Thirsty

so i've been thinkin . . .

been doin that a lot lately, what with no job and all this spare time on my hands now. i've had a lot of time to sit and reflect and examine some things and i've come to a conclusion:

i'm thirsty.

now someone may say well jus grab somethin to drink. if it were so simple then i wouldn't be feelin like i'm dyin of thirst. no, my problem isn't so much the absence of water; it's the lack of watering.

you may have heard the phrase "The grass is greener on the other side." well let me be the first to inform you of what complete and utter bull$%*! that is. first of all, mind your own damn grass. how do you even know what that other grass looks like anyway? furthermore, how do you even know it's real grass? huh? 

grass, as i've come to discover, is some pretty hardy stuff.  it can withstand the blazin sun, torrential rain, freezin cold, breakin wind and tramplin feet.  it can be cut and burned and eaten down and withered to a husk but if/when conditions are optimal, it will thrive and flourish. how about that? it can grow in the harshest of environments, in places where it has no business even bein rooted, where there is so slim a chance of survival. but it somehow finds a way.  go grass.

so now back to this phrase. you know what the problem is with this phrase? it makes you want to compare. it distracts you from the thing that is right in front of you. it obscures your focus and makes you believe that what you have isn't good enough. so you're all like, "what's wrong with my grass?" then your attention strays. you begin to see things that aren't really there or that you may have overlooked before. you judge. you undermine. you neglect. and soon, that ole fake grass on the other side really does look greener. it's taller and more plush; fuller, prettier. better.

or is it?

see, there's nothing wrong with your grass. or your fence. and looks really can be deceivin. the truth is you don't really know anythin about that grass. and you may get on that other side and realize it's really painted rocks. or broken glass. or a pile of rags. so i go back to what i said earlier: mind your own damn grass.

when i left home, my mom had jus had her yard trimmed. it was vastly overgrown when we first moved in and was really high. the pathway from the bottom of the stairs and driveway and to the front door were all but hidden under they swayin stalks. we walked on top of some, over some and around some to get to where we needed to go. but the grass prevailed. it kept right on growin and thrivin and didn't pay us one bit of mind. because it did't really need us to grow. it was here first. we met it here when we came. but it needed to be nurtured and cared for and taken care of. so that's what mom did.

there is NOTHING wrong with my grass. it was growin and thrivin and doin it's own thing all fine by itself. it was here when others came along. it's beautiful grass. and people wanted to lay claim to it. but if you're gonna stake a fence around a patch of grass, then dammit, take care of it. be gentle with it. nurture it. have the patience to trim back the weeds and undergrowth. and above all, water it.

because grass really doesn't need anyone to take care of it. it's a survivor. that's what grass does. it survives. in spite of all the things that can and often will happen to hinder it's progress, it doesn't quit. it keeps on tryin its best to grow. and thrive. and flourish. but it will accept your help. and patience and gentleness. your kindness and tender lovin care. 

the grass isn't greener because it's on the other side. it looks greener because you didn't take the time to water yours.

the grass is green where you water it . . . so mind your own damn grass.

it may jus be thirsty.