I am pretty sure I don’t like to mow or paint, because I had to do both of them as part of extra employment during my lifetime.  

I have plenty of things I need to paint inside and outside my house, and talk about procrastination. But just like anything else, as soon as I get started, I am motivated to finish. It’s just the getting started that is hard.

I only wish someone would come in at the end of a painting project and clean the place up.

Mowing is different, but also the same. I have to get motivated when it’s time to mow, and I usually spend some time outside first to get into the spirit. Once I’m going, it’s good. Sort of like a long drive that you know you have to take.  

I’ve said it before: I do much of my best thinking while I am mowing.  I don’t know what it is about walking to and fro that gets my juices flowing, but I can solve some of the world’s problems while I’m mowing.

I often work out a complex issue while I’m mowing, and usually it runs the gamut of problems with other people, finances, house repairs, or a number of physical or spiritual issues. I have a pad of paper in my garage and if I come up with something particularly profound, I might jot it down. I also sometimes speak into my phone and send a text to myself.

Now that my teaching career has ended, I won’t be spending my grass-cutting moments thinking of lessons or ways to help students. I won’t be sorting out seating arrangements in my head or thinking of a way to present a topic in a new, fresh way.  

As a writer, I will most likely think of ideas to write about. I’ve entertained the thought of putting together a book, writing a play, and diving a little deeper into the genealogy of my family and Michelle’s side of the family too.  I might come up with a clever idea for a skit to use in some venue, or a funnier way to write about something in this column.  

There are also times that my mowing results in more work. As I walk back and forth, or even if I decide to zig-zag or walk in circles, I am making mental notes of ways to make the yard more efficient and attractive.  There’s a window that needs attention, or a piece of siding that may be coming loose. Dandelions are prevalent on the south side of the house and I need to redo the stepping stone path in the side yard.

Plenty of “yard time” has been spent unpacking feelings about relationships. I’ve thought about conversations I need to have, mostly with myself, and have talked myself out of many a rash decision. I have summarized a speech to pitch an idea to someone, and I have thought about how I might mend fences with someone I don’t see eye to eye with. I’ve crafted thank you notes or letters to people that need to be commended.  

But I don’t go about mowing thinking about all these wonderful, productive things every time I fire up the mower.  There are plenty of times that I head out there, griping about how my feet or back hurts and grumping my way over hill and dale.  Then, a lot of random and somewhat meaningless things pop into my head, mill around a bit, and then leave just as quickly as they came. 

Mowing time often seems like I’m also mowing through mindless chatter in my head, and, to echo last week’s column, help to create a quiet brain in the moments after the motor is shut off.

Indeed, isn’t that the best part? The mower shuts off.  Things are quiet. You hear the birds and the bugs. The wind blows a bit. You look at a somewhat well-manicured lawn and you feel a sense of accomplishment.  You sit down somewhere to cool off, hopefully with tea or something.

And if all goes well, you don’t have to do it again until this time next week.