So, this seed is in the ground, right?
And the seed sits there in the dark and thinks, “Oh, man. I know I could be something more. I just know it. I could be GRASS. That’s it! I know I could be grass!”
And so it sets out trying to be grass. It clenches up its seed fists and pushes really hard. When nothing happens right away, it starts a support group with all the other seeds around it that are also working hard to be grass. (They notice that there are some seeds that aren’t trying hard enough, so they deride them and call them lazy loser seeds.)
The seed stays awake at night wondering if she could ever succeed, if there’s any hope for her, if she’ll be taken care of, and what if she ends up being a bag-seed on the street corner begging for spare change? This thought alone makes her wake up nervous, beginning each day with clenched teeth and a Venti latte.
After a little while, a sprout appears, and the seed feels it. She gets out a mirror and checks it out. “Damn!” she thinks. “The sprout on that seed over there looks way better than mine.” So, she vows to work harder, to push harder, to get ahead of the other seeds. She writes her goals down in her Franklin Covey planner and vows to wake up earlier and gain some leverage on the competition.
One day, a giant panting evil entity covers the blade of grass with a large shadow. The seed-sprout shouts, “NO!” And without warning, she is showered with an offensive liquid for a full 45 seconds. When the shower finishes the sprout is stepped on by the foot of the evil creature. The sprout gets bent back and slightly cracked from the pressure.
The sprout now has a crisis of faith. “I’ll never be a blade of grass. God just doesn’t like me much.” And she orders another round of personal development books from amazon.com, including “Why Bad Dogs Happen to Good Grasses.” The sprout goes to some seminars, eventually regains her faith, and tries even harder.
The seed’s progress is slow, but she pushes and pushes and after many weeks of strain, effort, and hard work, she makes it to her desired height of thirteen inches. (Lucky for this seed, she wasn’t planted anywhere near a suburban gated community.) She has knocked down lots of the other grass on the way, making sure that she is the only blade of grass in this plot of land. She stands out and works hard to maintain her status. It’s a little lonely at the top.
She knows she can’t just rest on her laurels. It’s time to start trying to make new seeds so that more grass can grow. She makes it her goal to find the perfect soul mate and learn about fertility and what to expect when you’re expecting. She vows to work hard at this next part of her life’s path. There are many books about soul mates out there…
Has it ever occurred to you that if the natural world worked like humans do sometimes, then your lawn would be on prozac?
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