Appreciating the simple things in life

MIND MOVES : Solitude is never quite what you expect it to be writes TONY BATES

MIND MOVES: Solitude is never quite what you expect it to be writes TONY BATES

A GREAT blue heron appears, as if out of nowhere, in the pond beside my cabin. One minute the pond seemed empty of wild- life, the next moment she is standing there, her image perfectly reflected in the still water.

Once again I have returned to this wilderness in Kentucky to experience days that are punctuated with visitations like these. I have taken time out to rest, to enjoy nature and to put my busy mind in neutral for a while.

With an elegance that is breathtaking, the heron begins to walk slowly into the shallow pond. She looks both relaxed and alert. Her long neck makes barely perceptible movements in response to sudden sounds: the shrill cry of a raven, the rustle of an unseen animal moving through dense forest.

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A snapper turtle crawls onto the muddy shore. It is two to three feet long with a body, thick neck and tail that dwarf the shell it carries on its back. Unlike its first cousin, this shell provides no sanctuary whatsoever in times of threat. So Nature gave this species powerful jaws to “snap” at predators as a means of defence.

A hummingbird hovers, for the second time today, on the other side of my patio screen. A tiny creature, eyes wide open, wings beating so rapidly they appear not to be there at all. Its wings make a humming noise that gives this bird its name.

The heron, the hummingbird and the snapper turtle sound like the makings of a children’s fable. But if I were to write such a story, I suspect the moral would have less to do with them and more to do with me.

Because when I first arrived here, I only saw a deserted muddy pond, surrounded by silent forest. Everything seemed desperately quiet, as though the magic had mysteriously vanished. My memory was full of images of sunlit water, a constant parade of wildlife and a forest brimming with birdsong. It has taken me a few days to see that the magic is still here, but hidden in plain sight.

Nature does not give up her treasures lightly. They were revealed to me only when I became quiet enough to see them, when I allowed things to be the way they are. I had to stop looking at this place through some idealised lens of the past. I also had to let go many illusions about myself.

I woke to a heatwave every day and initially found it oppressive. But my own mind was even more oppressive. I found it hard just to let myself be, to let go a vigorous exercise agenda and accept that I needed sleep, to enjoy an airport thriller rather than get stuck into several virtuous books that would stretch me. Days passed where I was edgy, restless and disappointed by my behaviour. I was a disgrace as a hermit.

Solitude, like life, is never quite what you expect it to be. The trick is to find the best fit you can between what you’re given and what works for you. So I started to make the most of what was there. I cut down two trees that were obstructing my view of the lake and mowed the grass outside my cabin. I moved furniture onto the deck, which was screened to keep out mosquitos. I made the deck my base of operations. I got up at 6am and sat out when the air was cool.

When the sticky heat of afternoon sun made it impossible to sit there, I retreated indoors and took a nap. My daily walk had to wait until the sun went down. When I returned from the walk, covered in sweat, I took a shower, sat out on the deck with a cold beer, and watched the fireflies.

Gradually my mind loosened and my body relaxed. I began to listen and notice what was happening around me in each moment. Simple things gave me immense pleasure: the taste of my first cup of coffee, the appearance of some wild animal, the sound of a bird I hadn’t heard before.

It struck me how we regularly put off moments of gratitude for what we have. I had to accept who I was and give up any illusion I had about being in perpetual bliss before I was able to savour the experience of simply being there. I felt alive and at home in the world. I was a “good enough” hermit.


Tony Bates is founding director of Headstrong – The National Centre for Youth Mental Health (headstrong.ie)