I can choose to pick the tops of the weeds off, or dig a little with a spade to get to the root, or rake an area with gloved fingers to unearth and sift out weeds that are young enough, before they interfere with the sprouts
I used to detest weeding. I considered all little plants worthy and beautiful, and just as I welcome a full range of human emotion, I welcome all these little growing things, but that does not mean they all get to stick around. When I weed, I bow down to the beauty and tenacity of the little buggers, but now I LOVE pulling them out, especially from the ROOT. Not only does that give me the satisfaction of having done a weeding job that will last, it also serves as a vivacious metaphor for habits of mind.
As I weed, I engage with a subtle ritual of dismantling volunteer thoughts that interfere with the thoughts that I nurture and water so that my mind and heart may ultimately become a source and force for nourishment, just as the beans, corn, squash will eventually feed the residents here at 3 creeks.
Through the process of sitting meditation that my dear friend and partner in ridiculousness, Heather Heintz, and I practice each morning here, I have an opportunity to travel to the roots of the mental weeds that present themselves.
How do I know if it's a weed? Don't always. Luckily, they come back again and again. Eventually they must make themselves clearly known for what they produce.