Think About It…

What is this trying to teach me…

Most of our thinking as humans is automatic. It is instinctual—much like the way a bird seems to instinctively know how to weave the perfect nest to lay its eggs. It simply knows.

So how many of our human traits are instinct?

That is a vital question, because there are so many grey areas.

We know that learning to walk is, in some way, instinctual. We watch a child move from crawling on all fours to eventually pulling themselves upright, finding their balance, and taking those first steps on two feet. There is something innate in that progression.

But what about fear?

Do you think fear is instinct?

Perhaps it is. Think about watching a horror movie. Some people instinctively cover their eyes or turn away. And when faced with a truly horrific event, there can be an immediate, visceral response of fear.

So how do instinct and perception reveal themselves?

What happens in the mind when it is unattended?

And do we know ourselves well enough to recognize the difference?

The mind is capable of learning, solving complex problems, storing information, recognizing patterns, and making logical decisions throughout our lives. But the mind does not necessarily need to be busy all of the time.

It needs to be cultivated.

There is a difference between being mentally active and being consciously engaged. Even stillness can be productive when it is intentional.

But how do we cultivate a healthy state of mind when so much of life can weigh upon us?

This is where my spiritual life has saved me.

I have always questioned. Who am I? Why am I here? What is the meaning behind the life I have been given?

Over time, I have learned to change one of the questions I ask myself.

Instead of asking, “Why is this happening to me?”

I try to ask, “What is this trying to teach me?”

That shift in perspective can change everything.

It does not mean that difficult things suddenly become easy, or that we have to pretend that pain isn't painful. It means that we begin to look at our experiences differently. We become curious about them. We begin to ask what they might be showing us about ourselves, about life, and about the person we are becoming.

Without some kind of inner or spiritual life, I think it can be easy to simply plow through life, moving from one thing to the next without ever stopping to ask why we are here, what we are learning, or what our experiences might be trying to reveal to us.

For me, spirituality has been a way of staying present.

Not escaping what is happening but learning to accept what is happening without immediately resisting it. To sit with it. To listen. To look beneath the surface and ask:

What is there for me to learn here?

Perhaps this is part of what it means to cultivate the mind.

When we don't become conscious of our own thoughts, we can easily fall back into familiar patterns. The past becomes a place we repeatedly visit. Fear becomes a default setting. And imagination—which has the ability to create something entirely new—can become redirected toward things that have already happened.

But when we become present, when we begin to question our thoughts rather than automatically believe them, something changes.

We become more conscious of the life we are living.

Maybe cultivating a healthy mind isn't about keeping every difficult thought away.

Maybe it is about becoming conscious of the thoughts we give our attention to and learning to meet life with curiosity rather than simply reacting to it.

We are not simply the occupants of our minds.

We are its caretakers.