What the Weeds Are Teaching Me
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Goldenrod, so pretty and misunderstood!
Lessons from the wild edges of my home
I used to think a “good” garden was one without a single weed in sight. Neatly kept rows, fresh mulch, tidy edges—that was the goal. Anything that didn’t belong, I pulled without a second thought. Dandelions, plantain, clover, chickweed—anything that didn’t grow in neat rows or come from a seed packet was quickly pulled and tossed aside.
But life has a way of softening rigid expectations. The more I’ve leaned into simple living and closer observation of nature, the more I’ve realized: the weeds might have more to teach me than the seeds I planted on purpose. Weeds, I believed, were a sign of neglect.
But over time—through the quiet lessons of gardening, motherhood, and choosing a slower path—I’ve started to see them differently. Weeds, it turns out, have something to say.
A basket of sunshine! Used for infused oil.
Weeds Are Resilient
They grow where the soil is poor, between cracks, where the grass is trampled, where no one meant for them to be. Still, they grow. Their seeds sleep until the time is right, and when they bloom, they do so boldly—no apologies, no permission asked.
Watching them, I’ve learned a quieter kind of strength. That you don’t need perfect conditions to thrive. That roots matter more than appearances.
I want to be more like that—rooted, patient, and brave enough to bloom exactly where I am.
Dried plantain and plantain infused oil
2. Weeds are useful
Once I learned their names, everything changed.
Plantain soothes bee stings.
Chickweed for cooling inflammation.
Dandelion for digestion, detoxification and joy. Mullein heals.
Each plant had a purpose I’d never noticed when I was too busy pulling.
Now I find myself asking:
What else in life have I been too quick to dismiss?
The very plants I used to toss aside are now staples in my home apothecary and my kitchen. What I once thought was just clutter in the garden is now medicine in my kitchen, salve in my purse, and color on my table.
Not everything valuable looks cultivated.
Sometimes beauty comes from the things we once overlooked.
3. Weeds are adaptable
Some plants wilt if the conditions shift even slightly. But weeds? They pivot. They survive. Weeds bend. They adjust. They change shape, direction, and strategy based on what the land gives them. They figure it out.
How often have I resisted change when I could have learned to bend with it?
Lately, I’ve been thinking: what would it look like if I responded to change with the same quiet flexibility? I know this is easier said, than done.
4. Weeds are persistent
No matter how many times I pull them, they return. Not because they’re stubborn in a negative sense—but because they know their place in the cycle. They don’t give up easily.
That quiet kind of persistence is something I’m learning to appreciate, especially during hard seasons.
What if the things we’re wrestling with in our lives aren’t setbacks… but invitations to keep growing?
5. Weeds grow where they’re needed
Dandelions break up compacted soil. Clover adds nitrogen. Mullein grows tall to soften disturbed ground. They’re not just random; they’re responding to the land’s need—quiet healers that know where to root.
Many weeds prepare the soil for other plants. They restore balance, hold the earth in place, draw nutrients up to the surface. They heal the land before anything else will grow.
Sometimes the “messy” things in life are part of the restoration process.
And I wonder:
What wild thing is trying to grow in me that I keep pulling up because it looks messy?
6. Weeds thrive where they are
They don’t wait to be moved to better ground. They root deeply, flower boldly, and live fully—right where they land. They remind me to be present, to thrive here and now, not later when everything feels more “in order.”
They flourish where nothing else will—abandoned lots, hard-packed ground, roadside ditches. Somehow, they find a way.
It makes me wonder what kind of overlooked spaces in myself are waiting to grow something good, if only I’d let them.
Plantain harvest
Rooted Reflection:
Now, when I walk the edges of the garden, I pause before pulling. Some weeds I still remove, but others I leave. I’ve learned to trust their quiet message: there is beauty in wildness, wisdom in what we didn’t plant.
Sometimes the things we didn’t plan—the interruptions, the uninvited guests, the tangled seasons—are the very things that teach us to grow deeper, softer, stronger.
Maybe this is the year you leave a few weeds, too. Let them bloom. Let them speak. They might just have something to say.
The next time you spot a wild patch of dandelions or clover, take a moment before reaching for the hoe. There may be more goodness growing there than meets the eye.
Let the wild things grow. They just might heal you.
Sunchokes thriving in terrible soil
Want to take these lessons to heart?
I’ve provided a free printable graphic you can hang in your kitchen, tack to your garden shed, or tuck into your journal. It’s a simple reminder of what the weeds are teaching us—one season at a time.
I asked Chat gpt to create an image to accompany the blog. On the 3rd try it got it right!
🌿 Herbal Inspirations
The wisdom of weeds has been passed down through generations—shared at kitchen tables, garden edges, and forest paths. While this post reflects my personal journey with wild plants, I’m continually inspired by the teachings of those who have walked this path before me.
If you’re looking to deepen your relationship with herbs and the land, here are a few sources :
Rosemary Gladstar – Her books are a gentle and joyful entry into herbalism, especially Herbal Recipes for Vibrant Health and Planting the Future.
Robin Wall Kimmerer – Braiding Sweetgrass is a beautiful weaving of botany, Indigenous wisdom, and reciprocity with the earth.
The Herbal Academy – A wealth of learning for new and experienced herbalists, with an emphasis on sustainability and tradition. A wonderful website.
Susun Weed – A bold voice in the wise woman herbal tradition, with practical guidance on using common wild plants. An interesting voice in the world of herbalism.
I encourage you to seek out the stories and traditions that live in your own landscape—and to listen to what the weeds are whispering to you.
I'd love to know:
Have the weeds in your life—literal or metaphorical—taught you anything lately?
Share your thoughts in the comments or tag me on Instagram @hooverroxanne with your favorite weed wisdom.
Stay rooted,
Roxanne
