When the mowing season began this year, I volunteered to help my son-in-law service his mower.
My skill set is limited to checking oil, air filter and blade; but he
had purchased a new blade and so we decided that would be something we could do
ourselves. The repair took all of 60
seconds once we got started. And when he
fired it up, the mower cut through the grass with ease.
Seeing how easily his mowing experience was improved with
an inexpensive blade replacement, I thought of my own mower and how it struggled
a bit last Summer, often lugging and stalling in the thick, late season grass. So I considered buying my own new blade. But when I turned my own mower over to
inspect the blade, I found it was still in fairly good shape. I took it off long enough to apply a
sharpening file to the edges, but I was surprised that a relatively sharp blade
had such trouble doing its job.
Then it dawned on me: The blade is only as good as the
engine pushing it around. Knowing my
tune-up skills were limited, I opted to check the only engine component I knew how to
access—the air filter. I loosened the
two anchor screws on the cover and popped it off. When I pulled the air filter from the
housing, dried, loose grass fell onto the mower deck. In fact, the filter was so
caked with tiny pieces of grass that I’m surprised the engine was getting any
air at all. A few taps on the wheel and
a gentle brushing later, it was completely clear. So I reinstalled it and fired
up the engine. It roared to life
instantly and ran like new. So far, I’ve
had no problem with even the thickest grass.
The lessons for mechanical repair are obvious. But the experience got me thinking about how
much time we, as human beings, spend “sharpening” our own skills, abilities and
talents in order to get ahead, without worrying as much about the “engine” that
runs it all. Health is an issue, of
course. But so are the things we must do
every day to just stop and breathe—like the engine must do –so we can run
smoothly too. When we’re so focused on how
much there is to be done and how well it must be done and how little time we
have left to do it, we lose focus of the reason we’re doing it all in the first
place.
There are so many ways to stop and breathe. Time with my wife and children has been the
balancing aspect of my life for decades.
Religion, service, travel and avocations are all important. Most recently, I discovered yet another way
to “breathe” after the birth of our first grandchild just over 5 years
ago. When we held her for the first
time, my wife and I were both reminded of how quickly that special time of youth
passed with our own children. Since her
birth, and with every subsequent birth, my goal has been to try to stop and
focus solely on the moment—that precious time we have with them while they’re
young. And you can see from the photo (below) that it's a lot of fun too.
With so much still going on in life, it’s not easy to
slow down and (pardon the tired expression) “smell the roses,” but it’s something
we must do. And the experience is
transformative. I’ve found these
experiences are the perfect balance of perspective and priority to the blade
sharpening and mowing I have to do every day in my job.
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