Already shared the photo, but as I read this, I thought It was beautiful and I wanted to share it. âWe come into this world full of joy, hope and fun. We make a wish on every turn, let our imaginations soar and revel in the delight of nature. We donât see these plants as weeds that need to be destroyed but as adventure and fun that we need to participate in. Then somewhere along the way as we progress through life, we somehow begin to obtain this urge to control things. We slowly begin to lose our imagination and have to effort in order to be playful - what once came so naturally. We lose ourselves to work, family obligations, life⊠and feel a deep rooted sense of disconnection. We then strive for this connection and feel that if only we were more understood, more appreciated, more liked. And as we strive for what we feel we have lost â we begin to try harder and harder to control our environment, our surroundings, ourselves and how we act, react and respond to others. In this nature of controlling, we work harder, we give more, we try to have the perfect house and perfect yard which brings me back to the dandelion â we now try to eradicate this plant that once brought us joy because it doesnât fit into our image we are trying to maintain. We want the beautifully manicured yard, the perfect body, the perfect personality, the perfect image to portray to others. Yet this obnoxious weed. This plant that refuses to die â refuses to let go, continues without complaint to show itself. To pop up somewhere new. Reappear in a different spot; in the smallest cracks of sidewalks if it has too. It is trying to tell us something.. It is trying to remind us of our childlike wonder that is still there, that will never go away and is just waiting on the sidelines to play. This plant and our interaction with it is a symbol of our lives, evolvement and call back to our authentic nature. It will never go away or be destroyed no matter how hard we push. And if we let go of control just a little, just long enough⊠This beautiful weed will flower⊠then seed⊠then beckon us to once again make that wish, blow it in the wind, and come back home to ourselves.â