NdukuOutLoud

On thoughts, seeds and Fertile Gardens

There are thousands, if not millions, of quotes on the power of thought. We are told that thoughts are faithful servants or seeds-that positive thinking equals a positive life, and that good seeds guarantee a good harvest. It all sounds very simple. Very poetic. And, frankly, very obvious.

Who wouldn’t want a good life? If the power truly resides in our own thoughts, then why aren’t we all living the lives of our dreams?

Maybe it isn’t as simple as we’ve been told.

To be fair, I know people who seem to have a perfect blueprint. They don’t seem to struggle with the tangled weeds of doubt or the heavy sediment of past experiences. Whether through fortunate circumstances or a life that simply hasn’t required them to fight for their mental terrain, they exist. And for them, perhaps, the “power of thought” is just as straightforward as the quotes suggest.

But for many of us, it is not.

First, because our thoughts come from somewhere. We are not blank slates who get to decide what we think about ourselves or others. We have been programmed to feel and to think in certain ways. We exist in environments-by choice or by circumstance- that keep feeding us new material or reinforcing old patterns.

If your thoughts create your life, but your thoughts are streaming in from a place you cannot control, where do the “positive thoughts” meant to yield a great life actually come from?

Is it not better, then, to work not on the thoughts themselves, but on where they are coming from? To cut it off at the root rather than trying to change the fruit of prior years’ sowing?

Maybe this is why traditional affirmations don’t work. We are trying to plant new fruit in a garden already choked with the harvest of our past.

We treat them as the starting point, but they are the harvest.

We treat them as the starting point, but they are actually the harvest. If you have never felt stable, how can you affirm stability? You can’t. Not yet. It’s trying to skip the tailoring-the actual, messy process of sewing that feeling into your life through action-and wondering why the “garment” of your new mindset doesn’t fit. You don’t start with the phrase; you start with the first, small, uncomfortable step that makes the phrase finally become true.

Can we change the seed, then? Yes. But we must clear the land first.

We cannot plant new seed in a field already full of last season’s fruit and weeds.

And so we begin by identifying the thoughts and fruits already borne.It means sitting with your thoughts and noticing where you naturally drift. It means taking the time to walk through your own garden and coming face-to-face with what is already growing there.

It is exhausting work. Nobody told me I had to do all this. Everyone just said, “Think good thoughts.” But identifying the bad fruit (and the good, too.) is only the beginning. Then comes the uprooting. The replanting. And the patience required to let the land rest and wait for the right season.

This requires grace. And time. It is a continuous loop of thought, action, feedback, repeat.

I want to highlight that action bit. It is where the real magic hides. It is easier to believe “I am capable” after completing a 5K race than it is while sitting in front of a mirror reciting it. That “I am financially stable” is more likely to make sense if there is already an investment account, a budget, and a path toward freedom being walked.

Water flows where it has flown before. (Shona Proverb).

Thoughts don’t exactly change the environment; they change how we perceive it. When we take action, we are enriching the soil. We are planting seeds of movement. And action pays off because it provides the proof the mind needs to believe. Soon, the mind can picture the goal, and the body can feel it.

It is going to take work. But it is worthwhile work.

Eventually, after a period of diligent cultivation, you notice the fear faster. You spot the trees of doubt creeping up before they can take root. You catch them, you weed them out, and you make room for what you actually want to grow.

It is hard work, but it is the only work that yields a harvest you can actually eat. And oh, what a wonderful place to be.