A Message in a Field of Daisies

I walked away from my little cabin, crossed the creek, and headed for the patch of sun blazing over hundreds of daisies in the field ahead of me. Yesterday felt like a chilly day in autumn, and I was craving heat. So that instinct to be a moth and gravitate towards the light kicked in. I wanted the sun on me.

As I walked through a stretch of waist high flowers, I spotted the old dead tree mound left behind years ago by a logging company a man had decided he'd sell some timber to for quick cash. It hadn't even lasted a week in his pocket. The destruction did, though, in several giant piles of brush now housing snakes during the dead heat of summer. It's still early and the weather's cold though, so I climbed up on the pile and took a seat so I could see the entire field and over past the creek towards my nest.

Trees sheltered my lot and hugged the water's edge. They were thick and green, and looked like a crowd of people gathered around the rushing water- and it was then that I realized they were. These trees were a group of beings focused in on that one stream of abundance; they were hungry for it. The stronger ones crowded out the weaklings, and the big ironwood trees reached out and over them all. I saw my cabin; so small in the shade and surrounded by little hills and the garden. My new resident bluebird was acquiring a new girlfriend, and together they dined on bugs daring to go near my vegetables. It was a place of business. I sat on the tomb of trees and watched in silence.

Just then, the wind picked up and sent a chill over me. My senses peaked and I saw that I was far, far away from that daily, habitual focus of my life in the woods. I was an outsider, looking over at what was happening on that busy side of the creek. I was stalking my own nest like a buzzard parked on a nearby ledge. I came outside of myself, and everything that normally took over my mind was replaced with the clean, new perspective of an old bird.

The words are easy. “We get caught up in our daily routines and need to take a breather every once in awhile." But saying it feels like kicking a dead horse. The power of that moment in which one finally realizes how true it is is just... different. I had to be sitting on that mound of dead tree flesh in the spiritual body of a buzzard in order to truly understand its strength for the first time. We usually don't escape our own heads as we power through our daily routines. As we judge our own relationships, and as we assume things that haven't even happened yet. In a group, it's even more addictive- because everyone's doing it. So finding the skill to step outside of it all and look upon yourself like an outsider is pure wizardry. I had an idea as I became the buzzard.. it was a strange correlation between the way we think and engagement in weight training.

When one works out, either the upper or lower body is focused on for a day. Then that area is rested the next. This keeps the muscles from overextending and damaging the results. Why don't we do that with the way we think? Doesn't anyone ever think it's possible that we're overextending one hyper-focused thought pattern? I know that to create a thought or action and nourish it every single day will actually cause the brain to connect certain neurons together and make it easier to do. This creates a habit. It becomes comfortable and addictive over time. Doing anything different starts to feel strange and seems harder, because we've developed our minds in that one area only. Maybe this kind of attention to one area can be blown out of proportion and start to become toxic instead of helpful. Maybe it takes us into a state of becoming trapped in our own heads. I'm not a neurologist. However, I know obsessing over any one thing has always been counterproductive to accomplishment or problem solving. We're complex creatures. In order to adapt and advance, we have the ability to use many parts of our minds. We were fortunately given that gift, and it seems a shame to allow ourselves to become too lazy and addicted to routine to use it.

I've always found better solutions when I've stepped outside a situation, or rested a minute from trying to solve a problem. When I come back, I feel "fresh" and recharged. My mind has acquired a second wind. I've now begun to understand, from my silent experience in the daisy field, that my mind needs time to rest just like my muscles do. We have the poisonous ability to become obsessed over just about anything. Work, relationships, people, business deals, fears, money, territory, competition.. this is a list that doesn't have an end. Obsession is not a healthy focus. It's a state of being stuck. It throws you out of focus. It crosses that boundary between genius and crazy.

It's easy to think too much in one direction. We wire ourselves to do it. That unwillingness to bend might be keeping us from finding our best answers. Call that much needed brain rest anything you want; prayer, meditation, a siesta.. it's easy to be afraid of words here and desire to name our actions something that erases the guilt of not constantly being in a state of production. I personally think our fear of relaxation is silly and downright unhealthy, but hey. If meditation is more of a working word and makes one feel more serious, then by all means, use it. I'm just trying to encourage a moment of rest for that overworked brain. It will thank you.

Here's an exercise for those who might find it very hard to detach and get out of their heads for a minute.

Go somewhere you can be alone. At least away from those who know you. This is a speaking out loud exercise, but if you feel uncomfortable appearing as though you're talking to yourself in front of strangers & it's impossible to get away from people, then whisper under your breath or something.
As you walk around, speak what you notice out loud. This will drive home what you tend to focus on, and sometimes surprise you. For instance, as I'm walking in nature and saying the words of the things I'm focused on out loud, I'll start to realize I'm honing in on either life or death. Positive or negative. Do the dying flowers stand out more than the vibrant, green leaves of laurel to my mind? Am I focused on how I dread the upcoming mud puddle because I know my shoes are going to get temporarily wet and dirty? Or do I focus up ahead of it where the sun's coming through? Am I concentrating on the uncomfortable and negative aspects of this walk? Or am I concentrating on what good things the walk is giving to me? Speaking these focuses aloud will take away the tendency to push those realizations way back in the recesses of our brains. We'll be unable to deny what we're doing to ourselves.This can be taken further, and we can start to speak entire thoughts aloud. How does the shadows rolling across the mountain top make me feel? What shape is it? What does it remind me of? An entire story will start to unfold in my mind, and I'll come back home with new ideas and epiphanies. And those newer, fresher ideas always have a way of providing my day with more power.

I do love the trees by my beloved water, but I don't want to find myself stuck like that, hanging over one creek and fighting for my drink. While the water can nourish dozens and tons of living creatures (and she does), it still seems very much like being back in NYC, watching the crowds rush for the money again on Wall Street. I know that's an odd comparison to make, and I had to travel outside myself & become an old buzzard sitting on a patch of death in order to do so. We're not trees. We can move and take ourselves out of a situation for a minute. We're not forced to rely on one body of water for nourishment. This is what makes us fortunate. And now that I've become the buzzard and polished this new perspective, I can genuinely say I feel incredibly stable of mind and more relaxed about the day and my placement in it. Now let's hope I don't have to go devour a carcass in order to experience my next revelation. 😉