Grass and Beards
Giving things more space is a good place to start. Notice where it takes you.
Hey guys… what’s up? Read or listen… or just whistle and hum a little if you like.
When I think about grass, I think about weeds... not the kind that get you high. I’m just referring to the garden or lawn variety.
Gardens and lawns all have weeds. Some more than others. The more I mow my lawn, the more I get them.
I think that weeds are an adaptation to the hard things we deal with in life. Like ourselves, my lawn learned this the hard way.
By cutting my grass too short, my lawn got sick. And the weeds moved in.
At first, they were on the surface, but eventually they got deep and spread.
I thought they would disappear by cutting my grass short and trying to hide them… but they just kept growing—deeper and deeper.
With the help of a kind man with a long beard, I let my grass grow longer so it would take root and give less room for the weeds to move in.
We decided that the whole lawn could use some reseeding, but that might be too much to do all at once.
Instead, we focused on the area that was bothering me the most, a place that had experienced a lot of trauma. That’s where our swimming pool used to be.
No… no one died there. It was pretty cool…watching the kids play in the water when they were younger. But a lot of work.
When they grew up and went out on their own, my wife and I decided it just wasn’t so much fun anymore... a real drag, so to speak. Too expensive to keep dumping chemicals into a pond that no longer reflected our image, and where unknown visitors would slash the lining with their toenails from time to time.
After my brother passed, we put the pool to rest and had a burial of sorts. A nice man with good intentions filled in the hole with a lot of gravel and what looked like brown earth—blowing on a slurry of green mulch and grass seed mixed with water. Told me to water it a bit…and let nature take its course.
“Of course,” I said... It grew but it never really took root. Figured out I cut it too soon and way too short. Just trying to deal with all the loss I guess.
When I think about my poor grass and its museum of weeds, I also think about beards. I always considered growing a beard but thought it might make me look different.
Now I realize that growing a beard would have been okay. It’s not bad to be different, but growing up in my world, I didn’t want to get too much attention… if you know what I mean. I’ll tell you more later if you don't.
Yeah, so what does it matter if the lawn has some weeds and it doesn’t look consistent throughout? It might be just the look that works—different, but you.
You might be asking what’s the point of this story? What does grass and beards tell us about life?
To put it simply, there are no easy answers. It depends how you look at it and how deep you go. I see my wife shaking her head and saying, “Marc, don’t try to psychoanalyze everything. Just tell us the answer.”
Okay… I hear you even when you think I'm not listening.
Basically, before life can grow, we need to think about our soil. If we have a lot of trauma, we need to deal with it. Otherwise, parts of us grow like weeds that adapt to poor soil—not particularly healthy, but surviving nonetheless.
To grow healthier, we have to go back to our roots—our Core Self—and make room for our pain instead of covering it up.
That’s where it gets a little tricky. Men can grow beards, but not a good look for everyone.
Well, it’s just the principle… or do I mean principal, the one that ends with pal, but certainly isn’t? You don’t have to grow a beard to be healthy. You just need to be yourself and lead your life in the way you were meant to be—from your Core Self.
In other words, don’t cut yourself short. You don’t need to impress others to cover up who you are. And most of all, don’t put down those who are different from you. Not a good look.
Grass or beards? Both look great and aren't perfect.
We just need to think about who we are… and not take away other people’s power… as a way of confirming our own. Sound familiar?
Otherwise, healthy lawns and beards never get to grow—and the light doesn’t reach all the other things around us that give color to our lives.
You know… all those little things that come into our arms and let us hold them.
Put that in your pipe and smoke it. Even if we’ve never met, how do you feel now… my friend?
“In my mind, I’m gone to Carolina... I’d better get myself home again real soon.”
I’m already here.
Dedication: To all those on this journey of heart, moving from room to room, remembering themselves—and who we are together.
Gratitude: With appreciation for those who have shared their light and sweetness with me over the years—and received mine in return.
Confidentiality note: This piece was inspired by someone close to my heart, but is a composite of many people I know—inside and outside of therapy. Any resemblance to your own life or our shared experience is both coincidental and universal—reminding us that our stories echo one another in the fabric of human experience.
Comments or questions? You’re welcome to reach me at mcecilvt@aol.com. Feel free to share these words—and this blog—with anyone you hold close… or long to be closer to.
About me: Besides being a writer, Marc Cecil is a doctoral-level licensed psychologist, certified AEDP supervisor, approved EMDR consultant, and senior CSRT consultant. An experienced psychotherapist, supervisor, consultant, and teacher, Marc uses an integrated experiential model called Core Self Integration Therapy (CSIT)—grounded in our capacity for adaptive change—to help people heal from complex relational, developmental, and transgenerational trauma. Some refer to it as Elephant Work.
Dr. Cecil lives in Vermont near the shores of Lake Bomoseen, where his heartfelt stories and images of connection arise from the light of invisibility—bringing life to therapy and therapy to life.
Stay tuned for more as this living model continues to grow within and between us.