There Will Be Weeds

I’ve been plugging away, both passionately and diligently, at my new book '‘There Will Be Weeds’.

To say I’m tangled up in it would be both a pun and a truth, as when I immerse myself in anything it has a way (and admittedly, I allow it) to wrap itself around me entirely – whether it's writing, cooking, or drinking – you name it.

Moderation has never been my forté, and it’s an ongoing struggle I’m getting better at identifying as I find myself knee-deep in whatever it is.

Lost in it, vines and weeds obscuring my vision and pulling me inside itself, whatever it is. I like to call it passion – but having a passion for excessive drinking doesn’t really have the same ring to it. Passion, however, at the end of the day, is anything you throw your whole self into heart, soul and all.

‘Ensnared, trapped, and imprisoned’ make more sense and are far more accurate depending on whether your ‘passion’ is positive and beneficial to yourself and others or a detriment to your soul, your goals, and anyone who gets close enough to you while you’re stuck in the thick of it.

I don’t want to share any spoilers of the book just yet, but I will tell – it too has been a work in progress for nearly 7 years; a seed that was planted as I found an outlet for my recovery in my own front yard when I decided to start some (incredibly ambitious [understatement]) vegetable gardens.

I know – it doesn’t sound like much.

But weeds?

Weeds are the ideal comparison when it comes down to the struggles we all share. The little things that pop up exactly where and when you don’t want them to – and a weed is anything that grows where you don’t want it. They pop in your actual garden, but they also pop up in your relationships, your work, your hatred to other anonymous drivers on your way to get groceries, the guy in the parking lot who is waiting forever to pull into a spot someone is also taking forever to pull out of, and basically wherever you thought things were safe from weeds.

Know this: Nothing. Is. Safe. From. Weeds.

They grow under the surface, and they spread. That, and they are next to impossible to remove without diligent effect, commitment, and your ongoing effort to deal with them and pull them out as best you can, when they happen.

But you have to get to the roots.

You have to remove it all and figure out where it came from or inevitably – it will return.

And it will spread everywhere.

My gardens helped – and help – me through recovery, reminding me always that it’s important to pause and allow things to simply grow, sometimes. It reminds me that tending to what I hope to enjoy is as important as planting the seeds in the first place. That it requires equal effort on behalf of Mother Nature, things we can’t explain, and ourselves to make things happen.

It reminds me that if you want to reap the rewards, you have to put in the work.

It reminds me to be patient.

I hope that once the book is ready, it will give you a fresh perspective on looking at addiction, recovery, grief and loss – and remind you every time you see a beautiful garden, that it didn’t just happen. That someone put in the work.

And, I hope you think the same when you meet someone that strikes you the same.

Beautiful people and beautiful stories don’t just happen.

They are created through struggle, grief, and hard times.

They’re created through doing it wrong a lot of the time.

From learning from our mistakes, from learning from others, and from coming to do better because we know better.

Because, well – there will always be weeds.

 

Listen to the 16-minute (or just listen to as much as you want haha) teaser for the upcoming audiobook edition of ‘Life in Detox: The beautiful messiness of being human while navigating addiction, recovery, grief and loss’ – arriving mid-to-late April, 2023, everywhere you listen!

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A dude who thinks, bakes, writes, learns, and teaches. And I make a LOT of sourdough.
Shawn Van Daele / SJ Van Dee