Thinking this morning about a bunch of things, but in particular, I find myself going back to my thoughts about farming, fields and rows.
I've talked about this before, but listening to the radio a few weeks ago, I heard one of my personal heroes talking about how he'd started farming up in the intermountain west. He was having a hard time keeping his rows straight. He'd think they were okay, but then he'd look back and see that his rows were all janky and crooked.
So I took the opportunity and I called him up, because I grew up on the farm, and had a great dad who taught me how to farm straight rows. You look down at the end of the field, pick the point where the row is supposed to end. And you just keep your eyes on that point and drive to it, and your rows are straight. Yes, look back every now and then, to make sure the thing you're dragging behind the tractor is still there, but mostly you have to keep your attention – your focus – on the end of the field.
We had a short conversation, and at the end of it, I told him “Don't make the mistake of thinking that this is just about farming. It's not. It's about everything.” And that was the end of the conversation.
I keep thinking about that conversation, and the application of that principle in my own life. Pondering it in my heart, I think is how it's put. Why is it that in life, we (well, I, anyway,) spend so much time freaking out about what we're supposed to be doing? Or feeling that we're lost? Adrift? At sea?
I think it's because I'm scared. I look at what it is that I think I'm supposed to be doing, and it really scares me. What if I fail? What if I'm no good? What if I'm wrong about this? These are the thoughts that are constantly running around in my head. And closely related are You're a screwup. You've proven to be unreliable, untrustworthy… unworthy. And if that's true, then of course, failure is inevitable, and then I might as well get packed with salt and eaten.
Putting it down here like this, you'd think I'd be laughing, and I am a little, because it's ridiculous. But it sounds so much more true in my head.
Eyes on the end of the field. See where the row is supposed to end. No, really see where the row is supposed to end. Then go there. It's really that simple. Not that easy. It's deceptively simple, but it's really not easy. Life isn't a turn around the field on a tractor. For one thing, there's fewer distractions on a tractor. Not as much turbulence. Not as many impediments that you can't drive over, plow under, and be done with. (Not that there isn't stuff that will do that in a field – got to pay attention. I remember one time we found a buried spool of barbed wire in the backyard, because I stepped on a barb with bare feet. Tetanus shot. Horrible story…) Anyway, you get the point. The principle is easy to see and easy to explain using the example of a tractor and a field.
It's much more difficult to apply when you're dealing with people, expectations, work, school, significant others, parents, siblings, children, other family members… Things jump out at you in life. You get blindsided by sickness (physical, psychological, emotional), death of loved ones, loss of job / income, mean people, politics, etc.
Heck, sometimes it's hard just to see the end of the field. But you have to keep your attention there.
And you have to keep moving. That's the other thing. You can't just sit there and happily contemplate the end of the field. You've got to get to work.
So, there's a few things that I'm looking at as being next steps.
- Learn what you have to learn. If your “end of the field” involves knowing something that you don't know today, acquiring skills you don't have today, that kind of thing, then address that need. Start learning. Apply yourself to learning. Be diligent. Keep learning. Refresh your understanding of the fundamentals occasionally. And when you understand fundamentals, apply them. Use them in your everyday life.
- Start moving. Don't let a lack of knowledge stop you from doing something to get closer to the end of the field. You don't need to know everything about writing to write. You don't need to know everything about kinesthesiology to lift weights. Your knowledge will never be perfect. At least, not here on Earth it won't, so lack of knowledge is no excuse for not acting – for not doing that which you do understand, and can do. Today. And as you learn and start, you'll learn more and get better naturally.
- Keep at it. Be diligent. Once you're moving, keep moving. Oh, take a rest if you have to. Even farmers stop the tractor occasionally to fuel up, to check their equipment, take a leak, etc. But then, they get back up in the tractor and keep on until the field is done. Might be a late night, but they keep at it. And so should you do.
- Be patient. Fields take a while to plow. And you're going to take a while to get to the end of your field. You don't understand everything right away? So what? If you've started, and you keep at it, you'll get there eventually.
- If there's a mistake that needs to be addressed, it's not the end of the world. One time, I plowed under an irrigation spigot. My dad had told me to watch out for them. I went down to the end of the field, turned, came back, turned again and… suddenly there was water spouting up in my rear view mirror. I stopped the tractor, and was freaking out – no idea what to do. My dad came strolling up, stared at that, stared at me, then shook his head and went to turn off the water and get the welder out. It was fixed pretty quickly, and I went back to work and finished the field. See that? The problem got fixed, and I went back to the field. In point of fact, Dad was the one that actually welded everything back together, and I wish sometimes that he'd made me do it. I still don't know how to weld. But the field got plowed, and my dad didn't kill me. It was a mistake. But it didn't stop me from plowing the field.
And if you picked the wrong spot… fields can always be replowed. Crops can be replanted. Life goes on. You can stop, reassess, and go back and fix it. That may suck, may be some wasted time and gas and whatnot… may even be really bad if the crop was wrong. But life goes on. You can get back up. You can try again.
Learn. Get moving. Keep at it. Patience. Fix what has to be fixed, then get back to it.
And always, always, make sure that your attention is at the end of the field. Heck, I’ve read someplace that if your eye is where it’s supposed to be, and you just keep moving, you can even walk on water.