Monday
If you feel tossed about by the uncertainty of world events these days, here’s another way to look at life, courtesy of my father. According to Scott Bates in this existential fable, you can imagine yourself as choosing whatever happens.
“The Contented Weed” arises out of the existentialist contention (formulated by Jean Paul Sartre) that we can assert our freedom regardless of what cards we are dealt. In fact, asserting our freedom is what gives life meaning. Otherwise, we are just the blind playthings of fate.
Like many of my father’s fables, this one is ambiguous. Is it good that the contented weed is invariably flexible in the face of circumstances outside its control? Or is the weed just rationalizing, reassuring itself that it wields more control than it actually does. The question is open.
One other point: complicating the lyric is its invocation of the cycle of life, which is generally seen as something beyond our control. Is Bates suggesting that assenting to one’s forced participation in a cosmic drama is Zen acceptance, not an urge to control. Maybe the weed has discovered the true meaning of freedom.
Or maybe it’s just making the best of a bad situation.
The Contented Weed
By Scott Bates
A Weed next door
Lives happily
Persuaded of
Her liberty
Each morning
When the Sun is low
She says to herself
I choose to grow
Each evening
When the Moon is bright
She says to herself
I choose the night
Each time she bows
Before the Wind
She says to herself
I choose to bend
And when at last
She wilts and dies
I’m sure she’ll choose
To fertilize
