I have a serious case of the dreaded mind monkeys. These jokers chatter incessantly and change persona depending on what will provide the greatest torment. They often become a mariachi band right before I desperately need a good night’s sleep.

My monkeys were in full swing upon reaching the cabin. One let out a nervous toot and darted off into the forest. Another solemnly wheeled his bar cart into the clearing and got down to the serious business of martini making. The rest of them pointed and laughed hysterically.

These guys never have anything useful to say but, when you become aware of how much space they occupy in your head, there are ways to control them. I have discovered that writing helps me to silence these interlopers.

After I have listened to exhausting renditions of: “who are you kidding/don’t you dare pick up that laptop/nobody cares about what you have to say/let’s go get doughnuts/we think your upper lip needs waxing/why don’t you just turn Netflix on…at least that’s entertaining”, I look at them and say:

“I see you. Trust me, I hear you. I AM picking up that laptop. Now, fuck off”.

Buddhists refer to this constant chatter as the monkey mind. My appreciation for Buddhism is tremendous. Buddha’s insights into human nature and the human mind have been saving us from ourselves for over 2500 years. It sure has made me feel less nuts knowing I am not the only one with this chronic, mind-chatter affliction – I found a short ‘n’ sweet video about how to calm it here. (warning: don’t indulge your monkey mind by clicking on all the other videos on the sidebar!).

As monkey mind is simply part of the human existence, they can serve a useful purpose: they remind us that however harshly we may judge others, this pales in comparison to how most people judge themselves. I used to have this saying on a sticky note on my laptop at work:

You never know what someone is going through. Be kind. Always.

I often failed.

In all my years of dealing with these guys, I’ve gained another insight. Behind all the crazed noise and shenanigans there lies a Presence. It never shows it face or yells over the noise. It simply waits patiently to be acknowledged. It will then offer excellent advice.

It suggested I relax and take a breath…and park the car on a flat surface without backing into the outhouse.

Monkey mind reacts. Presence responds. It’s important to know the difference.

This felt sensible so I did just that. I got out and leaned on the gray goose for support. Her warm, dusty body was comforting. I let the right side of my brain take the reins for a moment.

“Look at all this!” she exclaimed (not referring to the junk piles), and provided her take on the situation:

“Look at the abundance of trees, crimson leaves free and joyous in acceptance of seasonal fate. Say hello to deep blue sky, naked and open to its purpose and truth. Soak in the delicious wood smoke, heady aroma that awakens memory and earth connection. Embrace the silence, the absence of city soundtrack of clamor and claptrap. Snap snap! See past the crap to the potential!”

See past the crap. Those are words my monkey mind would never utter.

Huh, I thought. Well, Whaddayaknow.

The crumpled check in my wallet started to radiate a gentle heat.

Moments later the owner pulled up. He was just as I had imagined; honest in his reason for selling and refreshingly candid in highlighting what the cabin and property required. I felt a growing certainty that this might by a gift. Or, at the very least, a risk I was willing to take.

Within 2 hours the deal was sealed. We had walked the property (him leaping over fallen trees like an agile lemur and me lumbering behind like a dazed bear cub) and toured the surrounding area. For just having met, we were open in sharing some of our life paths to date, and once again I was struck by how refreshing it was to talk to someone with little use for masks or apology.

At one point, a neighbor wandered up the driveway. After a little chitchat (and the owner unsuccessful in his attempt to silently mouth to me that this never happens), the neighbor looked around the property, peered at me from above his glasses and offered: “you know you have other options, right?”. He was, however, an excellent source of information about the lake, municipality, etc., and ironically helped to close the deal.

After Helpful Neighbor meandered away, I shared with the owner some potential future plans for the property including offering it up as a place of respite. It would be a long time before we could do this, but a plan was coming together in my head. These ideas aligned with how he wanted to see the property utilized. I felt a growing sense of kismet.

I strongly felt that if I didn’t act now, the next guy showing up would buy the place on the spot. The price really was that good and the market really that strong and competitive (I will talk more about the price and how I financed it in another post). As it turned out, the next guy who did show up insisted the owner rip up my deposit check and cheekily offered more money. The owner replied, “bro, that’s not going to happen”. Yep. Kismet.

As I returned to my car, wallet a bit lighter, the owner yelled out, “what’s your husband gonna say? bro, what have you done now?!” The mind monkeys got a good chuckle at that and ramped up their efforts to be heard.

I’d be finding out in 1 hour 23 minutes. Maybe longer if the gray goose needed to take the long way home.

Karma Cabin Lesson #2: There are times when we need to take action without having all of the answers. A spectacular swan dive may be in order.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

Karma Cabin Challenge #1: Sometimes life offers opportunities for risk-taking to let us practice our ability to leap before analysis-paralysis takes over. As long as the risk involved is for the greater good of yourself and All, it can be a golden opportunity to grow and change.

Is there anything calling you to make a swan-dive leap? Doesn’t have to be anything like buying a run-down cabin…maybe it’s extending forgiveness to someone or to yourself (which is much harder to do), perhaps it’s letting go of an old belief that you know isn’t serving you anymore. Maybe it’s admitting that your work is too much and you need to ask for help or take an extended break. Whatever it is, think about how good it might feel to just.let.go.