Ok, bear with me here…
Like many others, I often struggle with mindfulness, despite my regular daily meditation practice – thoughts, ideas, worries, life –creeps in, and I struggle to ‘just focus on the breath’. Which is a shame, because according to the internet, mindfulness is a superpower that I can’t quite seem to get the hang of.
So where do brambles come in?
Over the summer I offered to do my neighbour a favour – the brambles in the alleyway at the back of our gardens had reached such a height and reach as to present a danger to life and limb whenever she went out of the gate. I figured chopping them back would be an easy job, an hour at most.
Fast forward an hour… By this time, I had realised that cutting back 10 years of bramble growth is like doing a five-dimensional puzzle that really, really hates you and is fighting back (picture an angry octopus with thorns). In case you’re wondering, the brambles use the fifth dimension to punch a hole through space and time so that they can appear out of nowhere and grab you by the neck or ankle. The slightest lapse in concentration led to scratches, entanglement, bleeding, and swearing (stifled, to save the delicate ears of the young children next door). And so, I had to focus my attention completely on what I was doing to avoid ending up hanging upside down, entangled in the thorns and shouting for help.
I was completely in the moment, in flow, absorbed in looking to see which part to cut next, gently pulling away the cleared branches, and keeping an eye out for trailing thorny tendrils above my head. All I had to think about was the next step, and then the next. And that’s when the magic happened. When I paused for a drink and a stretch, I realised that in that absorption, all my worries and stresses and cares and thoughts had drifted away, and I was focused completely on the moment.
Ok, but how did that change your life?
Spending 4 hours outside in the sunshine in such a mindful state, gave me a sense of peace and mental relaxation that I hadn’t felt in a very long time. This happened in the middle of the first lockdown in the early stages of the coronavirus pandemic, and I had a lot to occupy my mind. Pre-COVID, I had taken the decision to take voluntary redundancy from a stressful job and take some time out to think about my next move. I had a few job opportunities on the table, along with contingency plans and contingencies for those, so was confident in carrying on from where I left off before too long.
As the magnitude of the impact the virus became apparent, those job opportunities fell away, as did the various contingencies, and I found myself with the uncomfortable realisation of having made myself redundant during a global pandemic, with no clear idea what I would do next. I’d been working or studying full time for 25 years by this point, so this was a pretty scary situation to be in, and I was struggling to get clarity.
By the end of that first afternoon of bramble clearance, the mindfulness break had helped me to clear away some of the thorny tangle in my own mind, and calm some of my own fears about the future. I realised that time to pause, rest, and reflect on what I actually wanted to do with my life was no bad thing. I could make my redundancy settlement last if I watched the pennies, and so I decided to be grateful for the break and treat it as a sabbatical.
To support my own development, I decided to sign up for a coaching diploma, and that’s where I had my second dose of magic. In coaching clients during my training, I realised that I had found my ‘why’, and that this was the thing that I’d enjoyed most in the 18 years of my research management career. In coaching, I had found that amazing state of flow, where I was doing something I loved, that I was good at, and that was of value to other people. And so, in September, I started my business and haven’t looked back.
And that was all down to the brambles?
It’s possible that I would have come to the place of acceptance and calm of my own accord eventually, but I certainly had a powerful mindset shift that afternoon. I also had a great sense of accomplishment looking at the lovely clear earth and wildflowers that had grown back in place of the brambles – which I could well be a metaphor for what happened in my own mind.
So, next time you are struggling with mental overload, try clearing away some problem brambles. You might be surprised at what happens next…
