The flowers were not the main reason I went camping. I went to escape the phone, email, instant messages and pace of the entrepreneur’s life by being enveloped in nature. The night moon was full, the daytime sun unthreatening. By early June, the sun will have chased away we human interlopers with razor rays, reclaiming the landscape for the creatures naturally built for it.

I walked slowly, deliberately, intent to be with nature and not just look at it. One result of slowing down is increased perception. For example, I noticed the constant adjustments my ankles and body made to keep me upright on undulating ground. My other senses were heightened, too.

Panoramic, Laser – or Both?
I noticed there are three ways to look at a landscape, panoramically, with focus on one feature and a combination of the two. As I practiced looking wide, my peripheral vision expanded. My awareness broadened to include features behind me, an ant hill, a hedge of desert lavender, a craggy ridge. This 360 degree perception helped me think about the inter-connectedness of me and other people, of my ideas with those of others, of my ideas with each other and how things beyond my eyesight are part the complete picture.

I then switched to focus on a single stone. With my attention narrowed, I no longer sensed what was behind me. I made a highly detailed map of the stone’s shape, size, color, the mud that held it to the desert
floor, and how it sat, motionless, on the sand. I mused; this focused perspective is how most of us spend our days. But, it didn’t seem better or more useful than the wide view, just different.

Thinking of life and business, it seemed both perspectives were needed and beneficial. They seem complementary. I wondered; is there a way to blend them so I can be simultaneously focused and 360 degree aware?

I played with rapidly alternating the two perspectives. I mused that in coaching executives and business owners, for all our fanaticism for focus (!), focus (!!), focus (!!!), it can lead to being lost as much as on the right path.

	I have seen the converse, too. Too much big-picturing means living in theory. It is seldom good to look and act too broadly or with too much focus. So, what if we interleave both perspectives?
What if the solution were to not choose one or the other, but to use them both? This seemed a strong alternative to the either all broad or all focused. Think about it. Give it a try.

Listen Carefully
My hearing was equally acute. Nothing captivated me more than hearing a caterpillar eat a leaf. It took five minutes of staring at a beach ball size bush to learn where a rustling sound came from. There was no wind and I was standing still, so I knew it had to come from an insect, bird or lizard. Finally, I saw a fat, three-inch long, green and yellow striped caterpillar munching away. It blended perfectly with the yellow flowers and green stems. I was in awe. It never occurred to me that a caterpillar eating would emit a noise. If a tree falls in the forest does it make a sound? Duh!

Equally amazing, I heard a butterfly flapping its wings. I never considered they made a sound. Equally duh.

Next time you see a butterfly, pay attention to how it moves. They make forward progress even in gusting wind. As a product of a bravado culture, we are taught to see the loud and flashy as most capable. The butterflies taught me things that seem fragile can be remarkably powerful.

I discovered that flies and bees make distinct sounds. The flies make a buzz, rather like we hear from electrical wires. Bees emit more of a hum. Many bees together are positively musical, hinting of the long, resonating notes held by monks. Noticing their distinct sounds, I could appreciate them as unique creatures.

I also discovered that most flies were not interested in biting me. Those that landed did little more than rub their legs together before buzzing off. Nor were the bees interested much in me. As I stood still, they hummed off, along their path to pollen. Violent swatting was not necessary.

Stumping for Stillness
I respect how well adapted the desert creatures are to their environment. Every creature there belongs. This is often not the case with humans and our environments. Many of us are in environments for which we are not built. Some of us ought to migrate to environments more conducive to not just survival or proving how well we can endure suffering, but truly thriving.

I know. I know. Stumping like Thoreau about nature is soft, and out of step with business life. I disagree. While being in silence and stillness for more than two seconds takes more discipline than hanging out in the noise and fluttering of everyday activity, it creates an altered state of mind that can lead to new insights. And new insights are necessary for new progress. But, our culture rewards frenetic fluttering.

We have to be writing, talking, typing, directing and moving every second. I remember as the marketing director for Virgin Cinemas, I’d sometimes stare out the window across the London rooftops, only to be zinged by some half-serious comment like, “Hey, Facer! What are you doing, get to work.” I was working! I was being quiet and thinking!

A client who runs a million-dollar plus retail business told me he considers his time in the desert to be like defragmenting his brain – taking out the useless stuff, putting things in order and bringing the core back into focus. I like that idea. Is silence and stillness a prerequisite for greater awareness? I think so.

Have you noticed that the teachings of most, if not all philosophical and religious traditions urge stillness and quiet to expand awareness and understanding? In mainstream culture, this is difficult, so we avoid it. We want to be entertained. We want sound bite lessons and flashy wisdom.

I say, let the unimportant and merely entertaining go.

If you want to be more perceptive and see, sense, feel and hear new things, try a fresh approach. If your life, relationships, career and business need fresh attitudes, thinking, emotions and actions, create fresh conditions for them.

As I sit and type for you now, I remember the desert’s images, sounds, smells and sensations and all I learned, and I am again expanded.

Oh to stay in a desert state of mind…