The Monkey Mind

I love cutting the grass. Dropping that Bad Bay Mower blade to 1.5 inches and giving the earth a haircut just makes me feel good. I love an impromptu Sunday nap and leaving the windows open during a thunderstorm. I didn’t remember that until now.

It was an early evening in late March – 2018.  Dirt was still a puppy and went to the beach. A kiteboarder walked past and asked, “Is that a Blue Heeler?”

“Depends on the day,” I told him. “Sometimes he’s more velociraptor than Heeler.”

He laughed. “My girlfriend and I were thinking about getting one. I heard they have a lot of energy.”

We both looked down at Dirt, who was in the middle of a serious excavation job. Sand flying everywhere.

“Believe it or not, he’s actually worn out.”

“Really?” He said. Shocked. “He doesn’t look too tired…”

“Ah, he’s just acting out. Like a cranky toddler. I have to tell him he’s tired, or he’ll just go until he falls over.”

“That’s crazy.”

“I know. You want him? I’ll give him to ya for free.”

In the summer of 2021, I took an 8-week Mindful-Based Stress Reduction (MBSR) Class with UMass Medical School. The class met every Wednesday for eight weeks on Zoom with thirty other students for three hours. Developed by Jon Kabat-Zinn in the late 1970s, MBSR focuses on bringing awareness to your daily life. Things like walking, eating, stretching, and even chronic pain points become something to observe, analyze and question. The goal is simple: learn to quiet the “monkey mind” without judgment.

We had homework too. Each week the professor would upload a new mediation lasting 45 minutes, and we were to complete this every day. And almost every day, I failed. But that’s the point.

It’s tough to sit still for 45 freaking minutes. And when you do finally decide to stop pacing around the house in your underwear and put down the bottle of Windex, your brain blows a fuze. It’s like it rents an areal advertisement to fly into every thought that reads, “The world is falling apart around you! This is the worst idea on the planet, literally!”

We judge ourselves for everything we do. Being still forced me to combat those judgments and then learn to slowly bring my attention back to the moment.

I knew I was beginning to make progress when I noticed I was judging myself for judging myself. Then, one day, it happened. I’d just completed an entire 45-minute sitting meditation. I opened my eyes and brought my left hand to my face to itch my left eyebrow with the back of my hand. When I did, a pile of wet goo covered the left side of my forehead. I’d managed to be so focused on nothing I drooled all over my hand and didn’t even notice. I finally caged the monkey in my mind from simply being still. But, of course, this is a marathon, not a sprint.

I have a rule I try to adhere to –  if I can’t remember what I had for breakfast, I drastically need to slow down. Can you remember the last time you tasted something so good, so savory, you closed your eyes from your tastebuds, overwhelming your emotions with deliciousness? Your tastebuds brought you to the present and quieted your “monkey mind.”

I’m not sure I’ve had a successful nap since becoming an adult. Well, other than having some help from a world-class hangover. But I quit drinking professionally in late 2019 and can’t benefit much from those. I guess that’s why it took me a year before I realized I needed to teach Dirt how to relax. No,  it’s ok to relax – I had yet to teach myself to relax. To do nothing.

Mud snores. Sometimes with his eyes open, staring at me. I assume he’s clearing his nostrils for the coma-level nap he’s planning. He’s always aware, and I’m always jealous.

Dirt sleeps like me. One eye open, ready in an instant to nip the Sandman. Both our minds seem programmed to prepare. Muds mind is programmed to be present. The funny thing is, all three of us reach the same destination at precisely the same time. We’re all exactly where we’re supposed to be.

I try to write 500 bad words a day. And we’ll talk about bad words another time. For now, just know that writing bad words ain’t easy. Bad words are what keep the monkey in my mind employed.

I had a few things to say over the last few days, but they didn’t feel right – I didn’t feel right. I needed to cut the grass. To rest.