‘I love mowing the lawn. I spend that time just thinking. I get some great epiphanies during those chores’… were the words of a handsome Red Bull Xtreme Athlete. I saw his stunts on a cool video this morning. The film faded from the benign steerings of his green John Deer lawn tractor, to a steep stark white scene. The steep mountain face was covered in snow and his skiing descent included the use of a mini parachute wing, for when the cliff dropped off several hundred feet…
There are many differences between myself and this gentleman. I don’t para-ski the world’s most dangerously exquisite slopes… and I don’t enjoy mowing either.
Funny idn’t it. I saw that clip this morning, and all through the day, I keep going back to my shocking reaction to his mowing statement. When he talked about loving those times to ‘think’ I couldn’t relate at all. Then again I couldn’t relate to skiing off the edge of a mountain either, we have certainly covered that.
Nope. I don’t look forward to mundane repetitive tasks that allow me the opportunity to ‘think.’ I put mowing in that category, and sadly exercise too, to an extent. I guess that I have always had a problem with those moments that allowed time to ‘think’.
I think plenty. Too plenty in fact. The thinking is so constant and such a barrage-like assault between my ears, that I don’t want to create chances for more of it. All day, and all night long too, a torrent of flashes of images, phrases, memories and concerns fly by the windshield of my mind. I can have whole exchanges of dialogue, filled with response and retort many times over, in a short couple seconds. I am not bragging, or believing that I am much different than other people in this way, but I do seem to be bothered by it.
I avoid tasks that will take a long time, with one repetitive action, happening over and over. At the restaurant, where I work, my favorite times are the most busy. I have a matched-up version of that mental barrage taking place in the physical world in real-time. I want those moments to happen. Time disappears, my mind can feel quiet, while the world is clash-banging all around. When people are speaking out requests, and I move quickly from one problem to the next, I enjoy the frantic-ness of that freestyling flow.
I have some epiphanies during those busy times. I do need to have all cylinders firing for something divine to slip through the usual mindjunk of mental spam. An inspired thought that arrives unexpectedly, is what the para-skier liked about his mowing routine.
In the last few years I have come to understand that I will be the receiver of those moments more often as a surprise in between my thoughts, than when I try to directly create my own answers. Even though I know this. I rarely try to construct the situations where these might occur with predictable or useful regularity. Instead I do what I know doesn’t work that well. I live in distracto land, until a crisis arrives and then punt. I fret and hope I made the right call. Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.
It seems that the guy who sails off of the mountains with a chunk of fabric and a couple fiberglass sticks on his feet, has found his own way to operate this machine of a mind we’ve all been given. Good for him. It seems to be working out.
My wife may read this an encourage me to reconsider my aversion to mowing. Maybe she’ll suggest that I too, could start to get epiphanies while shortening our grass. Eh, I don’t know about that. I would agree that discovering the methods to utilize our mental abilities for good, could change everything, for the better.
I believe that I used to enjoy alcohol for the same type of reasons. The mind could be numbed for awhile. I could let go more easily from the rip-snortin’ freight train of my brain. I did forget everything altogether on many occasions. It was counter-productive though. Even though many of my epiphanies sounded awesome while drunk, they weren’t.
So, here we are. Middle of the night again. I had some fleeting moments of calm flow while writing this mediocre piece for my blog. I guess this is one place where my mind can walk, while my fingers talk… and I ride the train, instead of being run over by it.
I appreciate your readership. I wish you a very Merry Christmas. I hope you too are like the para-skier, and know exactly how, to receive the best of blessings that the Holy Spirit lays upon our minds, and more importantly, our hearts.