in my mother’s flower beds, the weeds towered like neglected to-dos. I had been meaning to pull them all summer. a few days ago, I took everything off the back patio, hosed it down, cleaned it, and put it back. so damn satisfying.
pulling weeds sure does feel like a metaphor for my life lately. I’ve neglected things, let them grow wild, and now I’m faced with the task of clearing them out. the satisfaction of a clean slate, the fresh start of a weed-free garden, mirrors my need to sort through my failures and disappointments. there’s something deeply philosophical about this simple act—about taking the time to remove what doesn’t belong, what chokes the beauty and growth that awaits beneath.
I should have pulled them weeks ago, but the pool was calling my name. now, as I kneel in the dirt, yanking them out one by one, I feel the weight of everything I’ve let slide. each weed is a reminder of a task left undone, a promise unkept, a dream deferred. but with each pull, I also feel a small release, a lightening of the load.
this act of pulling weeds is grounding. it’s a humbling reminder that no matter how chaotic life gets, there are simple tasks that bring order and peace. it’s a way to filter through the noise, to process and integrate before I go out into the world to create and share. sometimes, I skip this step, and my thoughts spill out unfiltered. the weeds of my mind need pulling, too—clearing out the clutter to find clarity.
as I clear the weeds, I remind myself that failure is not the end. it’s a detour, a chance to reset. a transformation.
there’s magic in this act, in the way it mirrors the larger work of tending to my life, of pulling out the negative to make space for the positive.
so, I return to the work, to the page in front of me. what I’ve referred to as the “small work” is actually not very small at all. being in the small work of your life means tending to the weeds more often. it means cooking a meal for yourself. it means putting the laundry up. being in the small work is being committed to the transformation of your stability, routines, and mental wellness.
and I yearn for transformation. everywhere. I want transformation in our broken systems, I want healing in corrupt institutions, and a rebirth in my own life. I want the freedom to make mistakes, to crumble into emptiness, and to rise again. pulling weeds, I see it’s just the beginning—another sweet metaphor for the deeper work of creating change, finding fresh paths, and giving myself the grace to reset and begin anew.
it is here, in the muddy soil, I find hope. hope that things can shift, that new forms can emerge from the old. it’s a reminder that even in failure, there is potential for growth. that in pulling weeds, we make way for the flowers to bloom. to change. to grow.
so, I send my gratitude to nature for, yet again, reminding me we are all connected.
so, I keep pulling, keep clearing, keep hoping. and in the process, I find a little more of myself. I find a little more of myself that is so deeply connected to this place.
the emptiness readies itself to be filled with something fresh and new, something alive. and that, I think, is the magic of being committed to radical imagination and consistently moving towards life.
and I hope you’re pulling the weeds that no longer serve you to make room for fresh blooms that do. 💐
delicious ✰ ambiguity
(the playlist)
“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity.” —Gilda Radner
ambiguous and ethereal playlist for the creative brain.
curated by fancy royce, updated weekly. good in order.
good on shuffle.
♨︎ delicious.
visual stimulation ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★
(visual stimulation credits: let her dance | Justin Gabbard, candles on film | sophia martinson, eye gloves | unknown, star girl | unknown, cow skull | Tyler Spangler, horses | abigail, love letters only | unknown, witches | unknown, cowgirl fence | unknown)
that good good: a list of good things, inspired by the “good things happen” sticker on my water bottle.
taking the backroads. SO GOOD.
naming your limits to yourself or others. (boundaries, the most good)
seeing your friend have success! GO BUDDY, GO!!!
making banana creme anything. 🍌 (good AF)
bringing your three favorite drinks with you wherever you go. (hi, gay. very good!)
saying something you didn’t know would change someone’s life. (in a good way)
bringing home freshly-plucked vegetables from a friend’s garden.
seeing someone who you haven’t seen in a long time and picking up where you both left off!
very long hugs, THAT GOOD GOOD!!!!!!!!!!! (I want to hug you)
pal, what weeds of your life have you pulled lately? have you found hope after clearing some space?
and what have you created lately? please know I would love to see it, hear it, read it, or consume your creations! email me any time with something you’re excited to share. big or small.
again, thank you for seeing me, witnessing me, and loving me as I show up to this space for AN ENTIRE MONTH NOW! look at us go. look at us pulling weeds. writing it out and creating containers for goodness.
sending many, many blessings.
I love you ☺︎
—aunt fancy
Yes yes and YES!!🩷🩷🩷