We are one day away from our bucket list trip through the Panama Canal, and I wanted to get the lawn mowed one more time before returning 25 days later. There was a lot to do, like packing and a million other things, but this was a priority because the grass grows about an inch a day unattended! Okay, that’s a slight exaggeration, but you get the idea.

Out comes the lawnmower, and I make several attempts to start the engine. It would run for about 10 seconds and die. Crap! I used it about a week before, and everything was running well. Pull-start-die was the routine until I got the idea that maybe the kill cable was too loose. It was stiff to operate, and that might be the problem. At this point, quickly mowing the lawn was a fleeting thought. I was running out of time, and many other things needed to be done today. We are leaving tomorrow!

I took the spring off, McGivered the switch to stay open, and pulled away. Run 10 seconds and die.

Enough. I have two other machines in the shed (don’t judge), and I’ll just use one of them. Right. These machines had not run for several years, but I was convinced that was only a minor detail to ignore, so I dropped some fuel in each one and made the seemingly one hundred pulls to get them started. Nope, nothing. Neither produced a spark!

Back to the original one. Pull, start, and run! Quickly, I set out on the lawn, and within 10 feet, it died. So now I have a wonderful 20-inch by 10-foot strip of freshly mowed lawn! At least it was in the back, and the neighbours wouldn’t be left wondering, “Why did he stop?”

I have decided that enough is enough. I will stop trying to have the lawn mowed before leaving and convince myself that it won’t look too bad when we get home.

Towards the end of our vacation, I chatted with my wife about getting a new lawnmower—perhaps an electric one—something I don’t have to worry about fueling all the time. We both agreed that we could get a new one as long as I got rid of the other three machines simultaneously.

Upon returning home, we went shopping and visited three local hardware retail stores, but we got confused about what to get. So many options and power ratings. Some were on sale, and we were a little shocked at the listed prices for others. What were the differences between the $300 and the $1000? We learned through my wife’s work that we have access to a discount if we wait to do the purchase one week from this day, which meant that I either weedwacked the lawn or somehow repaired one of the three units good enough to mow one more time before the new machine would be purchased.

When we got home, that lawn measured at a whopping 10 inches! It looked like I would need a goat instead of a mower.

We decided to wait and do more research, and went out to see if I could fix a mower.

Not being hopeful with my mechanical skills, I pulled the last working machine out of the shed and gave it the old college try: pull, start, die. I checked the kill switch. Yep, that’s open, and then the fuel cap caught my attention.

Now you kind reader probably were asking the question at the very beginning of this story and were wondering when this moron was going to open the tank to check the fuel. Yes, in my haste and busy mind focused on everything that needed to get done, it never occurred to me to check the gas tank. I went straight to the reality that the machine that had been nursed for at least 25 years was dead, gone and destined for the scrap heap. I wrote her off! With that reality in mind, I acted accordingly and hunted for a new machine.

I could not believe my eyes as I stared at the empty tank. Could it be that simple?

“Our thoughts are the lenses through which we view reality; in each moment, we paint our own truth with the colors of our beliefs.”
Embrace the fluidity of your perceptions, for what feels true today may shift like clouds tomorrow.”

Oh, yes, it was that simple. If there is a spark, check the fuel. This is basic stuff my Dad drilled into me time and time again when it comes to engines. With a busy mind, step two never happened.

How often do you find yourself busy-minded, shaking the old snowglobe, and forgetting things? Or do you find that you don’t perform to your potential, worried if you will get all those things checked off the to-do list?

Thinking and working harder don’t help a full mind or clear the list; they only add to it.

I finished mowing the lawn that day without one stall. The machine ran beautifully for the next hour or so while I listened to my favourite podcast.

The next day, my wife asked me what was wrong with the mower and what needed fixing.

I told her, “I can’t tell you.”

“Oh, why?”

“I am too embarrassed to say.”

She quickly asked. “It was out of gas, wasn’t it?”

We looked at each other and laughed.

Let’s get serious!

This whole post wasn’t about a lawnmower but about how a busy mind can make us overlook the obvious. In the rush of “everything that needed to get done,” I bypassed the most basic step and instead created a whole narrative, or reality: the mower was broken, I needed a new one, let’s go shopping. I acted on that reality… even though it wasn’t reality—it was just a thought, unexamined, believed, and followed.

That’s the thing about the Principle of Thought: it’s constantly shaping how we perceive situations. But when our mind is full—when we’re caught in a whirlwind of urgency, pressure, or planning—we lose access to the simple clarity that’s available underneath the noise.

This happens to all of us. We chase solutions to problems that only exist in our thinking. We make decisions from a cloudy state, then wonder why we feel off-course or overwhelmed. We forget that clarity isn’t something we have to work toward—it’s what’s left when the mental clutter settles.

Next time you find yourself spinning, stuck, or ready to write something off (or buy something new!), take a breath. Let the mind settle. You might find that the problem isn’t as big as it seemed… or that it was just an empty tank all along.

Reflection time
Can you recall a time when your mind was racing, and you overlooked something simple, only to realize later that clarity had been there all along, waiting for space to emerge?

What might become more obvious in your life if you paused before following the first thought?

Carry on, my friend, keep exploring.

Kind regards,

18/100

Here are a few classic songs that echo the quiet beneath the noise we seek:

“I understand about indecision, but I don’t care if I get behind. People living in competition—all I want is to have my peace of mind.”
A bold declaration of stepping off the mental treadmill and choosing clarity over comparison.

“Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain…”
A reflection on how we get caught in the illusion of busy-ness, only to realize we’ve missed what matters. It can feel heavy, but it’s a wake-up call.

“Take it easy, take it easy. Don’t let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy.”
That line alone is a perfect pointer to the busy mind—and the invitation to let go of it.