Thinking on the Mower

The other afternoon I climbed onto the mower planning to cut the grass before it got too hot. By the time I finished the second lap around the yard, I wasn't thinking about the grass anymore.

That seems to happen every time.

I've always enjoyed cutting grass. Well, maybe not so much back when I had to push a mower around the yard, but riding and cutting? Yeah, I've always liked that. I'm not entirely sure why.

Part of me wants to say it's the quiet, but that doesn't really make sense. There's nothing quiet about a lawn mower. The engine runs the whole time, and it's loud enough that you wouldn't expect much thinking to happen around it.

But somehow it does.

After a while, the sound just becomes part of the background. The mower keeps making its laps, and my mind starts wandering somewhere else. I've probably done some of my best thinking while cutting grass. Some days it's a project I'm working on. Other days it's an article idea. Sometimes it's a memory I haven't thought about in years, or a problem I haven't quite figured out yet. Whatever it is, it usually finds me somewhere between the first lap and the last.

Every now and then I'll look up and realize I've gone halfway across the yard without remembering the last few passes. The mower never stopped. My hands kept doing what they always do. My mind had simply wandered somewhere else.

It's funny. My kids are grown now, but they still think I'm always out cutting the grass. Truth is, most of the time I'm somewhere else entirely. The mower is following the same path around the yard while my mind is working through whatever happens to be there that day.

There is something peaceful about it, though. Once I get on the mower, I'm committed until the yard is finished. For an hour or so, there are no phone calls to answer, no emails to check, and no errands pulling me in a different direction. It's just me, the mower, the yard, and my thoughts.

Maybe that's why I enjoy it so much. Once my hands know what they're doing, my mind is finally free to wander somewhere else.

By the time the mower is back in the shed, the yard looks a little better, and whatever was on my mind usually feels a little more sorted out than it did when I started.

If my kids asked what I did that afternoon, I'd probably tell them I cut the grass.

That'd be right.

Just not completely.