As hard as this might be to believe, I actually like weeding. I enjoy getting down as close to the earth as possible and carefully prising out the unwanted greenery. Recently I weeded a row of rocket. Although I’m not a complete gardening novice, I’m not confident yet in my ability to distinguish a young rocket leaf from a young dandelion leaf. They’ve both got that raggedy-edges thing going on, you see. But I can spot plants that look nothing like rocket, so I stuck to weeding those out in the knowledge that, while the row wasn’t going to be perfectly weed-free, someone else with more dandelion discernment can finish the job and, in the meantime, the rocket would have more opportunity to flourish than if I hadn’t done anything.
As in weeding, so in life. I shall do the small bit I can do, trusting that someone else will come along and pick up where I leave off and, in the meantime, there’ll be a little more opportunity for life to flourish.