Lost in Thought

I love my walks. Every morning, I go out walking with my little dog, Arlo. And every morning, my mind races with thoughts of the day ahead. For work, it might be preparing class materials, grading assignments, ordering textbooks, or tending to other administrative tasks. At home, the housework is never done, the laundry basket is never empty, the garden always needs weeding, and at this time of year, I'm starting to think about when I should dig up those bulbs, disconnect the water fountain, and tend to those other tasks that need doing before winter sets in. Yes, my mind is always racing. Except when it isn't.

Every now and then comes a moment I think of as simply lost in thought. One of those moments when I realize that, for some span of time, I've been thinking of nothing but the walk, nothing but the "now." This morning gave me one such moment.

Walking around the neighborhood as we do every morning, Arlo and I came to one of our favorite spots:

It's far from wilderness, but it still feels a little wild. The summer growth obscuring the path, the bright yellow wildflowers signaling the start of fall, the knowing that small animals are skittering about in the brush, whether I can see them or not. It's the kind of path I would have loved as a child, the kind of scene that still lures me in as an adult.

Feeling no rush to get back home, Arlo and I trekked down the trail to see what we could see, my childlike sensibilities dancing with this modest sense of adventure. And it was on the way back up that it struck me: for at least five minutes I had thought about absolutely nothing of any importance. No books that need reading, no notes that need writing; no dishes to wash, emails to answer, or phone calls to return.

For those minutes I thought about nothing important at all. Yet during those minutes lost in thought, lost in the moment, I was doing something very important, indeed. For those few minutes, my mind was totally occupied with the sights and smells of autumn, the way my short dog had to bounce to get through the tall weeds, and the observation that the ground beneath my feet was feeling a bit squishy after the rain. For a few blessed minutes, my mind was devoid of worry and stress. And just those few minutes of absence, those few moments lost in thought, made all of those worries look just a little bit smaller, my tasks ahead just a little less daunting, and the possibility that some of them might not get done today just a little less disastrous.

Lost in thought. Whether we find it through meditation, jogging, yoga, or simply walking around, it's something each of us can use a little of. And dare I say, it's something most of us could use just a little more of than we're getting.