Dandy Lions
by Drew Rozell, Upstate New York

"But a weed is simply a plant that wants to grow where people want something else. In blaming nature, people mistake the culprit. Weeds are people's idea, not nature's."
-- Author Unknown

There’s a factory in front of my house. The production of this factory is so prodigious that for each and every day over the past few weeks, thousands of new models have come off the line. These products have proven so popular that they are spreading like weeds. Because they are weeds. Dandelions to be exact.

To a child, blowing on dandelion seeds brings giggles of delight. To an adult with the responsibility of maintaining a respectable lawn, the golden horde constitutes a scourge worthy of industrial strength poisons.

When spring arrived this year, hundreds of dandelions exploded on my lawn. As I first assessed the situation, I felt a wave of panic as I wondered how I would eradicate an acre of them. Like a fast moving thundercloud, this thought soon passed and with a sense of relief I remembered that I had no beef with the dandelion anymore.

Only a year ago we were sworn enemies. I lived in a suburban setting, a neighborhood. This was an ideal place for families; a place where kids could ride their bikes and score lots of candy on Halloween. The houses were neat and attractive and everything was “nice.”

When I moved into this neighborhood I had inherited a wonderful lawn. The previous owner was a landscaper and the carpet of Kentucky Bluegrass was an obvious source of pride for him. Aside from general mowing and raking, I’d never really cared for a lawn. The operative word being cared.

However, living in this environment, so close to other people influenced me. This wasn’t just a lawn. It was my lawn, a symbol of my worth as a person. Like a polished SUV in the driveway, the lawn was an event in the unspoken Olympics of how you measured up against the Joneses. In this way, my lawn became a way of measuring myself through what other people thought of me.

I spent hours of my life spilling my sweat and the occasional drop of blood on my knees pulling weeds out by the root. I found myself cruising the internet, reading up on fertilizers, grub poisons, and yes, my arch nemesis, the taraxacum officinale--the dandelion. As foolish as it sounds, I was obsessed with something I didn’t really give a flip about.

Now you may love tending to your lawn and keeping it looking beautiful. Super. For me, this lawn became a source of dread because it had nothing to do with the true me, and everything to do with managing other people’s perceptions of me. Any time we are comparing ourselves with our neighbors (or colleagues, friends, etc.) to get a sense of who we are, we are looking in precisely the wrong place. We are under the illusion that the approval or validation from others will somehow make us feel “complete” and make us feel good about ourselves.

The only reason I cared about dandelions was because I thought somehow these dandelions reflected me as a person. After all, what would the neighbors think if I just moved in and let Ed’s masterpiece of greenery go to hell in just one summer? Indeed, I was so far gone that I would take delight whenever I was out in the yard and one of my neighbors would drive by and say “You’re making the rest of us look bad!” “Damn right. I AM good, aren’t I?” I thought. Newsflash: You are already whole and complete. Always have been, always will be.

Yet it’s a universal human experience to lose this sense of wholeness and start to look for a sense of ourselves outside of ourselves. We look to our parents, our friends, lovers, job titles, tax returns -- all the way down to the dandelions in our lawns. Because looking outside of ourselves is so commonplace, we are numb to the impact and the consequences of this insidious habit.

Just as my desire to look good in the eyes of my neighbors had the power to hold me hostage to my lawn, our tendency to live our lives according to the preferences of others keeps us tethered to dissatisfaction.

The tendency to pay attention to what others think drowns out our inner knowing as to what’s really right for us. This is what keeps people in the wrong careers, the wrong relationships, and making the wrong choices.

Here are just a few of the questions that may provide a tip off as to where you have this dynamic present in your life:

What would __ think if I left this job?

How would __ feel if I left this relationship?

How would __ respond if I really told him/her the truth?

What would __ think if I really did what makes me happy?

What would __ think about me if I (did) __?

How would __ feel if I was wildly successful at __?

What would I do without __’s love?

I’ll feel better about myself and my life when I just get ___.

If any of these resonate with you, perhaps it’s time to do some personal weeding by allowing yourself to notice where you are living your life according to the preferences of others. Yes, this will require you to change. And no, making these changes might not always feel easy.

In my case, as nice as that house, neighborhood, and lawn were, they weren’t really right for me. The dandelions were trying to tell me that all along through my reactions to their presence. I had to go through a bumpy transition for a few months to get to where I am today but I find myself in an environment that makes me exponentially happier. Now I see each dandelion as a beacon of my freedom to choose from my true desires in life. In fact, the dandelions are no longer weeds. They are wildflowers.

Drew Rozell, Ph.D. is a writer and personal coach who works with clients to raise their level of awareness and live more attractive lives. Subscribe to his free monthly news-letter on attractive living at Drewsletter.com. Learn more and visit him on the web at EvolutionCoaching.com and Attractionville.com