One of my favorite parts of gardening is weeding. That might sound strange—most people see it as a chore—but for me, there’s something deeply satisfying about it. I love the quiet focus, the way I can see the difference instantly, and the fact that it’s both simple and necessary. If you let weeds grow unchecked, they’ll crowd out your vegetables and flowers.
Over time, I’ve come to realize that my mind works the same way as my garden. Thoughts—especially the unhelpful ones—can spring up without warning. If I don’t notice them and tend to them, they can take over, blocking the growth of what I actually want to cultivate: peace, focus, and joy.
Recognizing the Weeds
In the garden, weeds are easy to spot. They don’t belong where they’re growing, they often sprout faster than the plants you’re nurturing, and they compete for space and nutrients. In the mind, weeds can be trickier.
For me, mental weeds often look like:
- Replaying old mistakes over and over
- Worrying about things I can’t control
- Comparing myself to others
- Carrying on imaginary arguments in my head
These thoughts aren’t “bad” in a moral sense—they’re just unhelpful. They take up energy and attention that could be going toward something more nourishing.
Catching Them Early
When I’m gardening, I know that if I pull weeds when they’re small, it’s quick and easy. But if I wait until they’ve taken root, the job is harder, and I risk disturbing the plants I want to keep.
The same goes for mental weeds. If I catch myself spiraling into a “what if” scenario or getting stuck in self-criticism, it’s easier to gently redirect my mind before those thoughts grow stronger. That’s where my meditation practice comes in—it helps me notice when a weed is starting to sprout.
Even just a few minutes of mindful breathing can reveal what’s been taking up space in my head.
Pulling Them Out
In the garden, yanking weeds without getting the roots means they’ll just grow back. In the mind, ignoring or suppressing unhelpful thoughts doesn’t work for long either.
Instead, I try to look at the thought directly and ask myself: Where did this come from? What is it trying to do for me? Sometimes the answer is surprising—self-criticism might actually be trying to protect me from embarrassment, worry might be trying to prepare me for challenges.
Once I understand the root, I can let the thought go with a little more kindness, replacing it with something more constructive.
Making Space for What Matters
Every time I clear weeds from my garden, I notice how the plants I’ve been nurturing suddenly have more room, sunlight, and nutrients. It’s the same with mental space. When I clear out repetitive worries or grudges, I have more energy for creativity, connection, and joy.
Last month, I spent a morning weeding the rooftop garden, then sat down with a cup of tea. My mind felt clearer, lighter. I realized I’d been holding onto an old frustration with a friend for weeks. Letting it go felt like pulling a stubborn dandelion from the soil—there was an immediate sense of relief and openness.
Weeding as Ongoing Practice
The truth is, weeds will always come back. That’s not a failure—it’s just the nature of things. A healthy garden needs regular tending, and so does a healthy mind.
I don’t expect to reach a point where I never have unhelpful thoughts again. Instead, I think of it as an ongoing relationship: noticing what’s growing, deciding what to keep, and making room for what I value.
Some days I do this through formal meditation. Other days, I “weed” while walking to the subway, watering my plants, or even cooking dinner. It doesn’t have to be complicated.
Inviting Beauty In
One of my favorite Buddhist teachings is that we can’t just remove the negative—we have to actively plant the positive. In gardening terms, you don’t just clear the weeds and leave bare soil, or new weeds will pop up. You plant flowers, herbs, or vegetables so the space stays vibrant.
For my mind, this means consciously inviting in thoughts and experiences that nourish me:
- Reading something inspiring
- Reaching out to a friend I care about
- Taking a slow walk and noticing small beauties
- Practicing gratitude before bed
These “mental flowers” make it harder for weeds to take over.
A Gentle Approach
One thing I’ve learned—both in gardening and in life—is that force isn’t always the answer. Yanking too hard at a weed can tear the soil and damage nearby plants. Being harsh with myself about my thoughts can do the same.
Instead, I try to be gentle. I remind myself that weeds are natural, and so are unhelpful thoughts. The point isn’t to judge myself—it’s to notice, clear space, and keep tending what matters.
My rooftop garden has taught me a lot about patience, impermanence, and care. Weeding, in particular, has become one of my favorite metaphors for living. Just as I wouldn’t let thistles overrun my lettuce, I try not to let mental clutter take over the peaceful parts of my mind.
Both gardens and minds need regular tending, not because they’re broken, but because they’re alive. And tending them can be a joy.
So next time you find yourself lost in a tangle of thoughts, maybe picture yourself with gardening gloves on, kneeling in the soil of your mind. See what’s growing there. Keep the plants you love. And gently, patiently, pull out the weeds—one by one.