Balancing Dreams & Reality: Lessons from Yoda

I speak and write a lot about daydreaming. Recently, I watched through all of the Star Wars movies for the first time, and there is an exchange between Yoda and Luke Skywalker that’s been on my mind. Luke is training to become a Jedi to overthrow the evil Empire, but Yoda isn’t pleased with his lack of training focus. Luke expends too much head space and worry ‘looking out to the horizon.’ Instead of focusing on the tangible things in front of him to get better, Luke is obsessed with the idea of becoming better in the future.

Guilty as charged one might say. At least that’s the case for me sometimes even when I know exactly what needs to be done to get better in the present.. I think exercising control of your brain is really important when you have lofty goals for your life. Too much time future planning reduces brain power on the steps to get there in the first place. Putting the chicken before the egg if you will. Or was it the egg before the chicken?

Zanarkand loves to explore this meeting of time and space. Reality and dream. A figurative horizon if you will. An overlap and intersection between the life you are living right now, and the one that is possible if you take some serious action. Stare at it (the horizon or your life) long enough and you may not know which one you’re focusing on (present or future). I found myself focusing too much on future planning of late, and even the act of writing this down is a gentle reminder to do the tangible things in order to get there. Usually, I am gently reminded of centering and becoming aware of the present over a fire and a cup of coffee.

When Dad was around, and when I was spinning in my own thoughts, one of my favorite refocusing activities would be to meet at Woods Coffee at Boulevard Park in Bellingham, WA. We would have that coffee outside and the fire would crack behind us. Damn those were great times and they always carried the sensations that would bring me out of my daydream. The sounds of the fire, Dad’s voice, or the taste of a latte. These are powerful sensations and they evoke a lot of love and nostalgia.

The more I continue on the coffee journey, the more nostalgic I become. And I think this is a good thing. It signifies that I am living a life that I believe is worth remembering and celebrating. And I hope you are on, or are about to embark on, one of those journeys yourself. Sometimes you need a little present day adventure to prime you for what’s to come. So, we set out to Chelan, WA during a snow storm. Brilliant.

Modern life can make it so your transitions blur and honestly, it’s easy to kick back and let the shot clock run out. Not that auto pilot is bad; there are lots of ways where it’s rather useful. But droning on too long in auto pilot leads you to, and maybe through, your 30’s, 40’s, 50’s and potentially an entire life without realizing you blew it. I like taking these little life breaks as they remove me from this monotonous daily grind. They help me separate the life I am living and the one I am working toward. Both are important to hold attention on individually and I think that doing it this way increases productivity toward your individual quality of life. The Chelan trip was no different.

Morning coffees are always rather sacred, but especially so in the presence of family. It’s kind of nice to be asked to make coffees for everyone. And it’s even nicer when you look out the window and see transitions, separately, in action. The sun itself as a solo entity working to slowly wipe clean the remnants of a hard winter on the east side. The otter gleefully sliding across the frozen lake bed to feed on the fish dancing underneath. The prominent hoots of a Great Horned Owl as the sun and other sounds faded over the West, and the brisk walk of the local Coyotes which appeared to me as if they were prancing across the lake.

All of these little moments blend together into the background of our lives unless we wake to the requirements of the present.

So here we are. At a transition point again as Winter bows and gives welcome to sunnier afternoons. This little getaway helped me focus on the next set of tangible things I can do to be present for you, our customer.

Thank you for being here, and I hope you find it time well spent. After all, your life and its inspiration are worth spending time on. It’s the one currency we can never get back. So Luke, look to the horizon for inspiration, and then cast your attention on the next step to get there. We got work to do.

Until next time.