Work is neither something to fight or collapse from
There’s a much gentler and natural path
Why is it that we don’t take our cues from Nature when it comes to work and play?
For months, trees remain dormant, seeming nearly dead.
Snow falls, sometimes melting, turning to slush. Moments later, a new cold grips as brutal winds deeply chill any skin foolishly left open to the air.
And then, April peeks around the corner. Green shoots appear from below the soil, barely making their presence known.
> Is something growing? Am I imagining it?
And, boom, everything is in bloom. Within days, daffodils flower, trees reveal tiny leaves, and a new promise of a verdant spring flourishes once again.
Why is it we don’t see our work this way?
Instead, we fall into fighting some false dichotomy.
We either work with efficiency, head down, plowing through one thing after the next, a golden glowing aura behind us as we *make the things happen!*
And then there is sloth and procrastination, a gray defeat of nothingness, a melting into the couch with a prayer that some muse will bless us with “motivation” once again.
Nature neither works like mad nor avoids. It simply is. Its apparent sudden blooms are only an illusion formed by the alignments of millions of organic machinations hidden beneath.
Nature takes its time.
I love to take my time.
Certainly, doing so may seem to be a luxury. There are deadlines to attend to. But taking time is not an indulgence, delaying beyond fruitful moments of reflection.
How do we allow time for the natural engagement of our minds, its processes, paths, and rhythms?
As a simple example, some deride time by saying, “any task fills the time you give it”. The implication is that providing more is wasteful.
However, while I can write a post in 20 minutes, it’s the time beyond that enriches it.
Sentences take root. Paragraphs find strength and elegance. The piece begins to flower.
Sitting with something in regularity, accommodating, nurturing, and nourishing a project to form at *its pace*, taking into account the forces of self and world…
… is a practice of patience.
We practice a presence of self, of vision, and the unfolding of our meaningful intentions into our surroundings.
When we can build our worlds to support our natural pace and rhythms, we have the opportunity to create stronger, more elegant work.
PS The re-imagined Waves of Focus: Guiding the Wandering Mind, a course about guiding our minds from its natural rhythms, is almost here. Rooms are all prepared and decorated. The hallway vase is ready for fresh flowers. The doors will open soon, and I’d love to have you join.