6. Farmer Danny vs. The Weeds

Dearest Readers,

As I've mentioned before, when I first moved into my new place, I decided to take on the rewarding, fulfilling, and life-giving hobby of gardening. And these words were an accurate depiction of my gardening experience for the first 80 days or so. Things started off smoothly; I built a "raised bed", bought some plant food, and started throwing every seed I could find into the planter, with no regard for spacing or breathing room or any of that nonsense. At the time, this seemed like a sound idea. "Shoot your shot" as they say in the business. However, this “hobby” (likely as a result of my haphazard planting strategy) has since morphed into a perplexing, time-consuming, and unruly amalgamation of overcrowded vegetables and weeds. 

Every week I take a picture of the latest "thing" that has sprouted up and send it to my green-thumbed friend to ask what it might be. She often provides sound advice like “Try smelling it” or “Does it have a carrot attached to it” or “I don’t know dude, what did you plant there”. I don't know where she comes up with all these, but I always appreciate the input from a gardening wizard.

This month, there’s been one specific plant that has done exceedingly well. This thing is tall, sturdy, and filled with little buds. Finally, my first success in the garden! Would they sprout into sunflowers, or maybe bell peppers, or even zucchini? What mystery. Mystery that would have been eliminated if I had just written down what I planted, and not thrown handfuls of seeds into the backyard like a crazed Farmer Danny Ben. But where’s the fun in that?

To prove that I’m not making this story up, I took a picture of the plant-in-question. Look at the size of this thing - I grew this with my bare hands!




Last week, with the counsel of my gardening guru, and the emergence of some flowers that looked eerily similar to dandelions, we came to an unfortunate realization. This future behemoth, giver-of-life and giver-of-tomatoes, was actually a giant weed. A giant weed that had now spread its seeds all over my garden, as I unknowingly fed it plant food and healthy bouts of water. Little did I know, this deceptive taraxacum was launching an army of stealthy weeds all throughout my 8’ by 8’ backyard.

Other than the fact that this story is a telling illustration of my gardening abilities, it introduces an interesting connection to a book that I picked up last week. It was one of those self-help books that guilts you into critically examining the negative habits (read: weeds) that have taken over your life, like eating a whole bag of Sour Patch Watermelon right before bed, or re-watching the entire series of The Office in just over 3 weeks. The book is called The Compound Effect, and it centers around the idea that our daily, consistent choices can deeply affect our futures. “How we spend our days is how we spend our lives” sort of vibes.

The book offers an analogy about the way that our choices and habits can take root, and over time, can turn into persistent weeds in our lives. Here's the analogy: imagine that you plant a tree. If you were to wait a few weeks and then try to pull the sapling out, you wouldn't face much resistance. If you were to wait a few years and try to pull out the same tree, you might need to grab a friend or a shovel. And if you were to wait for 20 or 30 years, it’s probably too late, and now you're stuck with a tree that has stinky white flowers and blooms all over West Quad every Spring.

Now, I’m not suggesting that this weed is a permanent fixture in our backyard, in the same way that the not-so-desirable habits in my life aren’t permanently cemented in. Miracle-grow is good, but not that good. However, this concept of being mindful of the things that we allow to take root in our lives is deeply connected to one of my 2019 goals: be comfortable being uncomfortable. 

I know what you’re probably thinking. “Whoa there buddy, your last post was about becoming more rooted in Santa Clara, and the week before that about rediscovering the concept of home. Why would you want to become LESS comfortable in your daily life?” A fair question indeed.

When I look back at the things that I’ve done that were way outside of my comfort zone, a few moments come to mind. 

• My freshman year of college, when I decided to run a half-marathon. Before this, my only competitive running experience was finishing second-to-last in a Middle School cross country meet (thanks, Justin).
• Auditioning for my first musical revue with minimal preparation and zero idea of what an audition even looked like. I sang Dancing Through Life in the key of D while the pianist went with Dancing Through Life in the key of Bb, which was a strange strategic move on my part.
• Taking on a Lenten Challenge (Exodus 90) with some of my brothers that included giving up all sweets, avoiding any non-academic internet, and taking exclusively cold showers every morning.

At the time, each of these pursuits seemed crazy in their own right. But from them emerged a newfound appreciation for distance running, an incredible friend group and passion for musical theater, and a deep, very real hatred of cold showers. Since getting into the routine of the “daily grind” that often accompanies the postgraduate season, I’ve found myself lacking in the type of discomfort that has nourished growth and self-discovery in my life. When I read the familiar motivation "Do something every day that scares you", I realize I've strayed pretty far from that motto since starting my career.

That being said, there have been a few small victories this year. In March, I ran a Rugged Maniac, where I found myself crawling through freezing mud and rolling under barbed wire (real talk, the race was actually a ton of fun, would recommend). I made an intentional decision to stop using Maps on my evening bike rides, which might not sound like a big deal, but for someone so directionally-challenged this basically guaranteed that I would get lost early and often. And on a more serious note, I’ve been consistent in attending Menlo Church and my new small group. This one has actually been the toughest, because going to an unfamiliar church alone is one of those things that can be challenging for even the most extroverted of people. But we're getting there, one "Welcome!" nametag at a time.

This year has certainly been different than every other before. As the 68-degree weather morphs into 72-degree weather, indicating the stark transition to summer, I find myself missing the familiar ebbs and flows of academic life, and the landmarks that break up different seasons like Spring and Summer Break. I’ve had to be intentional in stepping back from the routines of work and errands, making time to enjoy the food, activities, and dogs people that make this place a paradise. And yes, if you haven’t caught on, the ultimate goal of all these blog posts is to get all my friends and family to move out to Santa Clara to be my neighbors.

This summer looks to be a memorable one, filled with weddings, a bachelor party, and a graduation where I’m excited to be the youngest old person in attendance (#WashedUp). I’ve got 6 Southwest flights in 3 months, as I'll head to South Bend, New Hampshire, St. Louis, South Bend again, San Diego, and Los Angeles. Full disclosure, if I'm MIA from the blog game, it's probably because I'm busy tearing up a dance floor or stuck on the 3 (7?) hour Coach USA Bus ride to campus. 

Finally, if anyone has any good material for a killer "Best Man Speech", would love some input. “MUST SEE: Twin brother gives touching tribute that makes audience cry with laughter and emotion” is the sort of YouTube caption that I’m going for, but I’m open to inspiration.

Warmerly,
Danny