I have been sharing my “Weed Barrier” story as a teaching tool for my clients, for years. I always follow up 
with, “I should blog about this,” but I have not followed through until now. Apparently, I had some resistance that needed my attention first. My clients will be happy to have the story in print. I think it’s a fun story with a cool twist. I hope you do too!
About 20 years ago our kids were all out of the house and Doug and I found ourselves in our yard together. When our children were in K-12 we’d squeeze our yard work duties in between dropping someone off, picking someone up, attending sporting events, working, working out, and the like. My yard responsibilities included weeding and tending to the flower beds. Doug’s were mowing and weed whacking.
Our lawn was more of a flowering meadow. We both liked it that way. Amongst the blades of grass grew violets, dandelions, buttercups, clover and mint. Imagine the aroma of mint following a fresh mow. It was delightful...
…that is until the day we were standing next to a section of yard where the mint had been busy spreading its roots underneath the weed barrier. In this area there was a small patch of black-eyed Susans, day lilies, and a small, not-so-healthy-looking shrub. The weed barrier was covered with bark mulch but somehow the mint was poking through and taking over.
I expressed wanting to pull up the weed barrier and plant grass in this area. Doug wanted to throw another layer of weed barrier over it and keep it as it was. When I pushed for my desire, Doug got surprisingly angry as his words and tone implied:
Doug: “Do you know how hard it would be to dig that up?"
"Do you want me to have another heart attack?”
His reaction rattled me, but surprisingly my response was calm and with a little humor. I had been practicing removing myself when emotionally charged. This understanding had been life changing for me. So, what was my response that amazed me, you might be wondering? Here also lies my resistance to sharing.
Trish (with rake in hand): “I just want to throw this rake at you right now, so I am going to go inside and 
meditate.”
I felt triggered, but rather than get in a fight about it, I calmly painted a picture of frustration, put the rake down and walked back to our house to explore why I felt rattled. There was a lightness and a bit of humor to my response since we both knew, without a doubt, that I would never literally throw a rake. If you know me, you know the mere thought of me throwing a rake in anger is funny.
I actually hadn’t thought about how hard or easy it might be to pull up the weed barrier. I just didn’t want to maintain this flowerbed. Doug’s accusation of me wanting him to have a heart attack couldn’t have been further from the truth. Clearly my ask had been triggering to Doug, and his response had been triggering to me.
Anger is a circle.
I did proverbially throw a few rakes meditatively to get my anger out—the anger feeling misunderstood had stirred. I hadn’t followed through with blogging about my story because I feared being misunderstood by you, the reader. How interesting. My clients and friends know I would never throw a rake or suggest throwing one. We chuckled at my choice of words. But would readers who don’t really know me chuckle with me, judge me, or think I gave them permission to throw a rake? If my words trigger something in you, please don’t throw a rake at me or at anyone, just let me know you initially would want to, and go to your safe place to explore with curiosity and interest why. And if you are chuckling with me because you know me, read on.
20 years ago what emerged from my admittance to being triggered was a picture of how Doug and I approach life differently. I want to get to the root of everything. I had even made a vocation of it, while he wanted to smooth things over. I found myself laughing and excited to share my findings. It really wasn’t so much about the weed barrier.
When I found Doug, he enthusiastically expressed having something he wanted to share too.
Doug: “While you were in the house meditating, I tied a rope to the half dead shrub and the other end to the trailer hitch on my car, drove away and it ripped up all the weed barrier.”
Brilliant solution!
I then shared my meditative findings and he expressed interest in giving it more thought.
Because I stepped off of my position and went inside, we avoided a fight. Rather than Doug thinking of how 
to defend himself, he put his energy towards a solution where both our desires were met without anyone having a heart attack.
Win-Win!
The heat of a moment is not the time to practice a new way of thinking and being. I had practiced stepping off my position many times meditatively with do-overs from previous fights and power struggles. I was so pleased to be thinking and being who I wanted to be in the moment this time—calm and honest about how I was feeling without justifying it. I always say change takes, “commitment, discipline and lots of practice.” I was committed to seeking understanding rather than debating and my approach to my feelings had changed from reacting to responding in the process.
Fights had never led us anywhere good. That I fully understood. There could never be a different outcome if I was too stubborn to step off my position and do something different.
See how it ends up being a very different conversation when one person drops their rake and responds to a trigger rather than reacting? It has the ability to bring people closer.
What I learned from telling my story this time is that my previously not sharing it was likened to the weed barrier and my fear of being misunderstood was like the mint. If I want misunderstanding to stop popping up in my life I've got to get to the root.
“Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.” -Søren Kierkegaard
I give my past self an “A” for effort. I’d done the research, I’d gathered the data, fights don’t work and proverbial weed barrier is only a temporary fix. Now I seek understanding when triggered and it never disappoints.
Stop reacting, start responding, and see where it takes you.
If you’d like some guidance let me know. I’ll be in the garden, getting to the root of my fear of being misunderstood.
Friends in this Love,
Trish
