I grew up with a barn. A big old-fashioned barn. And in that barn out behind my childhood home was a hayloft. The kind you see in the movies. With a rope swing and even a resident owl. Breathe in with me? A deep swig with your eyes closed. Yep…there it is. The sweet and musty scent of hay. In my childhood barn.
My neighbor Sandy had her own barn, too. She lived across the field. Her’s was red and white. Mine was a soft, peeling-paint yellow. Her’s was filled with hay, just like mine. But Sandy’s barn was different. You see, Sandy’s dad was a real farmer. And real farmers, in addition to using their heads, use their sixth sense. They intuit. They feel. They are connected to nature. Sandy’s dad knew that the hay wasn’t just for feeding the animals. He knew it was an opportunity for fun, too. So every year when he filled their hayloft in their red and white barn, he didn’t stack the bales in tight little rows like legos with thoughts of practicality. Nope. Sandy’s dad took the extra time to throw reason to the wind and to elevate fun to its rightful place not just for us kids, but for himself, too. Sandy’s dad made Sandy’s hay loft into an entire magical world.
Up levels, down levels, dead ends and sharp turns, tunnels to make even a bore squeal with happy. Cozy little cubbies just right for two girls to tell their secrets, big open spaces near the tip-top windows to see the rolling fields high up from above—Sandy’s dad thought of everything to make my heart sing. And every year when the new bales came in, I could hardly wait to see what new magic, what new fun, what new delight awaited me in Sandy’s hay loft across the field.
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My Wednesday Wish for You?
You probably work. You probably need to use your head to do your job properly. And that’s all good, of course. You have to eat, after all. But sometimes, that head needs to be thrown out and into the wind. Sometimes we need to get back to our roots, to the real farmers that live within each of our souls. We need to remember our connection to nature, our natural need for fun, and how we all, at some point in our lives and more often than not, over rate practicality and the importance of head. We forget to cultivate the lightness of fun…the magic of being.
This week, I challenge you to loosen the reins, to stop your head from driving your life’s car. Maybe not all day, or even for very long, but for as long as you can. And longer every time, until you see what a difference less head can make in the fun of your day. Be silly without thinking of the repercussions. Aren’t repercussions really just other people’s issues anyway? Eat some decadent food without a thought of what it will do to the scale. Make a desired phone call without wondering how someone else might interpret it. Take a sick day to lounge in your bathrobe with bubbles and chocolate and not a sniffle in sight. Put your head on the shelf and feel like a real old fashioned farmer with a barn full of hay and a banjo on your knee. Feel. Be. Trust. And believe. Believe what? That everything is better, more magical, when we honor what makes our souls sing.