I was leaf blowing in our woods yesterday. It sounds ridiculous, I know. And I'm sure it looked even more ridiculous to the people walking and driving by. I wouldn't blame them for thinking I was a bit crazy. But what they couldn't see is WHY I was leaf blowing in the woods.
Our house is located in a neighborhood, but we have a reasonably large and private corner piece of property with a beautiful flat back yard. Where the yard ends, the land is wooded and slopes down to the road. It's an incredibly picturesque and serene spot. A unicorn, of sorts, in the real estate world. But when we purchased the house, the landscaping had not been kept up for almost 20 years. There was a lot to dig through, rediscover, and restore.
It wasn't until months after we moved in that I decided I was going to cover myself head to toe and venture into the wooded area beyond our deck to attack some weeds that had grown almost as high as the deck railing. It was disgusting back there. Years of dumping wet leaves and pond scum over the deck onto the hill below had resulted in a sort of gross composting nature soup. But I kept my gag reflex in check as I stepped toward the steaming pile of nature-y stuff.
As I got closer, I felt something solid underfoot. Using my feet to clear away the debris, I saw a large flat stone laid into the ground. I continued to kick away debris to reveal another, then another. The rocks were strung together in what appeared to be a purposeful configuration. I immediately got the leaf blower and went to work. As I did, a magical stone pathway started to take shape. It began next to our deck and wound through the entire property - breaking off at specific points and continuing in other directions, eventually leading down to the road in three different locations. And, as a bonus, a horseshoe pit had also been carved out.
It was like finding buried treasure. All laid out with incredible intentionality and brought to life by what must have been an astounding amount of work. I don't know which previous owner decided to take on this monumental mountain-carving project, but kudos and mad respect to them.
Now that I know they exist, I'm determined to clear those pathways and let that beautiful hard work shine through every year. It's a big messy job, but this property, and that person (or people), deserve it. It's a stunning display of man meets nature - way too good to hide.
So, when people walk or drive by, all they see is some crazy lady engaged in what they must believe is, at best, an exercise in futility. But I know that they don't see the whole picture. They can't know that I'm actually engaged in a labor of love. They have no idea that I'm on a mission to reveal and restore beauty. There's really no way for them to understand that I'm honoring the work of those before me. All of their information is based on one thing: some lady is leaf blowing her woods, which seems pretty stupid.
And that is so often the case, isn't it? At least with me, it is. We think we know when we really don't.
I'm working on that. I've learned through experience that every time I'm sure that I'm right, there are probably a dozen or more reasons why I could be wrong. I've learned that there is always a bigger picture, and my assessment or judgment based on my limited knowledge won't change that picture. But it might change me.
It might make me cynical.
It might cause me to unnecessarily offend.
It might limit my ability to influence others positively.
It might cause me to miss out on some amazing relationships or opportunities.
Assumptions are tricky little devils. They make us feel superior and center stage, but behind the scenes, they're tearing down the set and undermining our credibility.
The only remedy I know is grace, and the humility to admit that I could be wrong. And I'm working on that too.
So if you ever happen to see someone doing something like leaf blowing their woods, challenge yourself to summon that nearly lost art of the benefit of the doubt. Because even if you think you know that it's futile, or silly, or a waste of time - even if you believe that what they're doing is wrong...you really can't be sure about that.
There just might be something beautiful in the works.