I’m sitting, writing in a house that is surrounded by a forest. There are so many trees that you could almost call it a forest, except it is not. I can see a bird with a yellow body and a black head from my window as it flies from tree to tree. It hung upside down for a moment and then flew away. I see other birds in the distance, and I can hear many others still. Another bird with a red streak in its head and a brown body came to the same tree; this seems to be a very popular tree.
I see more of the yellow birds in the distance. They are playful and easy to find thanks to their bright, rich color. I can see at least five or six different birds right now. I started writing with my earphones on because when I am in my office, I always need music to block out external distractions. When I realized I could hear the birds singing, I took them off. It seemed ridiculous to be wearing earphones when I could instead be listening to the birds’ song.
Then I thought about checking my chat messages (something I do when I’m sitting in my office), but the birds seem far more interesting and peaceful. I could sit here watching these birds for hours. One of the yellow birds just came to my window; its wings and tail are black, and so is its head, but the rest of its body is yellow. I watched it playing near the window sill, and as I was about to take a picture, it flew away. It went back to the tree, the one they all seem to love.
My mind is present. The words are flowing, and I don’t even have to look at my screen as I write. I’m looking outside at the trees and their leaves dancing with the wind. I’m following the birds’ movements as they fly from tree to tree. It’s so peaceful. If I were in the city, I would say I’m bored, but here, my mind is occupied and at rest.
I wonder if so much of what we battle daily is because we are not in nature anymore. I’m lucky to be here right now. Although, the same story that plays out every day will still play out tomorrow.
A butterfly just fluttered by. It was a pale yellow, and it flew over the field in front of me lightly and softly.
Tomorrow I will continue my concentration on focus and my battle against unproductive distraction. However, what if the entire paradigm is wrong? What if our best work can occur in different rhythms, rhythms that are more akin to those in nature? We would probably be more productive, and more importantly, happier. Just as an example, I have written 475 words in this sitting when I usually write about 200.
A hummingbird came to the stand in the rail in front of me. I managed to get a blurry picture. I was going to try for another, but it flew away. They fly so quickly.
Being in an office and getting work done is how everything is organized. I get it. It just doesn’t feel natural from this perspective. We didn’t evolve for that. I don’t have any answers. I just know I feel really good right now – about my work and inside myself. I am peaceful and content, and I wish this could be my office every day.