Weeding and thinning is often one of the last things I’d like to do. Life’s clutter can feel the same—we need to take time to weed through our stuff, thin it out, and let go of unnecessary things. Letting go has always been hard for me, though I’m not sure why. Even in the garden, removing plants that are still alive feels wrong. It’s difficult to kill something that has found the courage to take root and grow in this world. Yet, much like with our personal lives, if we don’t thin and weed, things accumulate, becoming tangled and chaotic.
This year, my garden became overrun with cherry tomato plants. In my 40 by 20 raised bed, they took over, turning the garden into an unruly mess. The tomatoes shaded out everything else, making it impossible for other plants to grow. It was a stark reminder that without consistent weeding—both in the garden and in life—there’s little hope for anything else to thrive.
Life is full of difficult choices, and timing is just as crucial as the decisions themselves. Remembering when to act is as important as knowing what action to take. Sometimes, making no choice is still a choice, and postponing decisions through procrastination often makes them even harder. The day will inevitably come when we must confront our choices—whether to keep or let go, to stay or leave, to move forward or change course.
Harvesting is one of the greatest joys of gardening, but even that can be overwhelming. Too much is still too much—too many zucchinis, too many tomatoes, too much of everything. In my case, zucchinis hid under the tomato vines and ballooned into enormous five-pound monsters. Unfortunately, the demand for such oversized zucchini is limited. Luckily, I live in a condo complex where we can share our bounty with neighbors. We leave produce on a bench in the hallway with a “Help Yourself” sign, and it’s amazing to see how quickly things disappear. Kale, of all things, vanished overnight. Basil? Gone in no time. Zucchini? The smaller ones were fine, but the larger ones lingered—apparently, even in a communal space, nobody wants a giant zucchini!
This year’s garden has taught me a lot. Between my two raised beds, one small low bed, and my plot on Windmill Island, I’ve found great joy—and plenty of work. The exercise, fresh air, and the satisfaction of harvesting healthy produce to share with friends have been some of the most rewarding aspects of the season. Gardening has reminded me that growth, while rewarding, requires effort. It’s a balance of hard work, timing, and occasionally, the willingness to let go.