I think we need to think about thinking this week. You think: “What’s he on about now?” I will now proceed, after a few deep breaths while marshalling my thoughts, to tell you precisely what I’m on about.
On a recent woodland walk, I noticed that much of the time, rather than being present and enjoying my surroundings, my mind was elsewhere, thinking about work, money, and what to have for tea.
This struck me as absurd. Sure, physically, my legs were getting a workout but, mentally, I might as well have stayed in the hoose. I know that, when out walking, you can often think things out and get them in perspective.
But, in a wood that you only see on relatively rare visits, what’s the point in filling your mind with the same old mental treadmills? Why not fully enjoy your surroundings?
Perhaps you do initially – “Oh, this is lovely. Hello trees, hello beasties!” – but, after a bit, you fall into a rhythm and walk along unconsciously while, consciously, thoughts of mundane life re-occupy the high ground.
It should be the other way around. If you relegate worries and whatnot to the your subconscious, the little elves down there work them out for you. Up top, meanwhile, you enjoy your surroundings.
To be fair, I made sterling efforts to focus on this walk, and there was much to see and appreciate, not least the view of distant mountains across the sea.
At one point, I came to a gate and noted with concern a man standing beside one of those rugged country vehicles that you normally see in towns. I’ve a townie’s fear of bolts and latches on gates, but had managed several so far.
This one, of course, wouldn’t fit properly – always the same when someone’s watching; I play guitar like Jimi Hendrix when no one is looking, and like George Formby when they are.
However, I managed to jam it into the post and, anyway, it transpired the man was just a dog-walker. I’d been worried he was something to do with the castle estate. My walk is on a publicly owned – as it all should be – bit of forest but, eventually, it joins onto the estate and indeed, as it turned out, this gate did lead there, with a little notice advising that you must pay for the privilege of waddling around on that hallowed ground.
I’m not sure this applies in winter and, frankly, I don’t care and so I pressed on (well, for a little bit). Alas, thoughts of the gate not being shut properly filled my head and, after much thought, I decided to return and check it.
I was on a distant path by this time (a lower one back in the public forest) but waddled all the way back at an increased pace as slanting rain and wind assailed me. Of course, the gate was fine.
But all the way back to check it, I was focused on the task, even if my mind did wander to the well deserve dram I’d promised myself. All the same, the extra effort in worsening weather took my mind off the regular worries.
And I thought to myself: there’s not much point in coming to a pleasant place if your mind is elsewhere.
