Raise the Blade: Philosophical Epiphanies While Mowing Grass
Does anyone else have "mowing thoughts"?
Some folks seek tranquility by raking sand in a zen garden.
I get a similar sensation by mowing my yard.
I have a no-frills electric lawn mower that sounds more like a high-powered vacuum cleaner.
I have a modest-sized yard that doesn't exceed the Bluetooth range of a set of $20 headphones.
Much like going too long without a haircut, when my yard begins to look shabby, I feel an itch about it just above my ears. And like cutting hair shorter than you normally would to buy more time, in years past, I've had the tendency to lower the blade about one step above the mower's shortest setting and plow through. If my yard were my 5-year-old son's scalp over the bathroom sink, it would probably be screaming at me. Thankfully, to my knowledge, grass doesn't have vocal cords.
What is the result?
A pretty burnin' forearm and calf workout.
A yard that's about to begin Army basic training by the looks of it.
Huge clumps left in the wake of my mower to brown in the summer sun like jerky.
Overall, an unhappy yard.
Today, I stood in my backyard, knocking some grass out of my beard, peering down at the clumps.
"Raise the blade, ya dummy," I muttered to myself.
With a nod to no one, I reached down to pull back the green handle, causing the mower body to mildly lift like a scratched cat's shoulder blades. I fired back up my battery-powered yard buffer and kept moving.
Though this cut grass was longer, the push was lightened. The newly shorn paths, cleaner.
After rounding a few laps of the yard, I looked back at my new handiwork.
There were no more clusters trailing each pass. The tips of the blades of grass that remained reflected the sun back emerald into my sweaty shop glasses, almost in thanks for being spared from spinning death. And the battery levels went from a winded sprint to a smiling jog.
Will I have to mow the grass more often with the blade raised to this level? Probably. But that's ok. I have no problem with mowing grass. It is perhaps my favorite chore.
As I pushed the mower in concentric laps of my in-field-sized yard, I wondered what other smaller tweaks could simplify life's self-inflicted hardships. How could I "raise the blade" in other aspects of my life?
And this question is not, "How can I make life easier for me?" While raising the blade of my mower makes for an easier mowing experience for me now and a cleaner yard, it means I will need to mow more frequently. A raised blade simply distributes the effort for a higher quality work experience and output.
In some applications, "raising the blade" has proven biological benefits. Take running, for instance. One may think that the best way to improve one's fitness is by hitting the running track and redlining one's effort until they simply improve. Instead, most runners are encouraged to practice low heart rate training—running long distances at almost laughably low heart rates.
Wouldn’t this hardly make a dent in their progress? “Hardly” is the proper reply. In reality, these miles and hours of low heart rate training gradually build one's cardio engine to the point of runners achieving immense speed while keeping heart rates relatively low.
Similar results can be found with what is called "high-rep" or "hypertrophy" strength training—in which one uses lighter weights in higher repetitions.
Though the duration of these workouts disqualifies them from appeal on TikTok and the amount of weight lifted fails to garner second looks, the results are immense. The guy or gal doing 10-pound dumbbell shoulder presses at the gym doesn't look very impressive to someone walking by. However, the person who has been watching them knock out reps for 10 minutes likely has to pick their jaw up from the floor. ("They're still going!")
One also can't help but apply the idea of "raising the blade" to many other facets of life.
Carving out a few months to write a novel could completely upend someone's life—thus few ever do so. However, writing a page a day for a year easily results in a considerable first draft.
Some feel they need to fork over a painful amount of cash to get started in investing—which may keep them from getting started in the first place. However, small investments over a long period with compounding interest can result in potential fortunes.
Many other instances exist.
This isn't to say that "raising the blade" means giving up on progress in the face of adversity. Instead, you size up the scenario, looking at ways to more efficiently distribute progression—either across time, effort, cost, or some other metric.
And perhaps entering a new situation with one's blade fully raised should be our modus operandi for any new endeavor. This would certainly help reduce the risk of premature burnout or a false start. As we become more acclimated and comfortable, we can begin to lower our blades to their appropriate levels of effort and quality output.
So, the next time you come up against either friction in an effort or you're not satisfied with the quality of the output, perhaps it's time to distribute the work and "raise the blade."