There is something about waking up early in the morning. Waking up when the world around you is asleep and quiet. When the only noises you hear is an occasional chirping of the birds. When the sky is grey, air cool, and your mind calm – a blank slate, an empty paper – you feel you can do anything in that state of mind.
I woke up six in the morning today, and immediately I could sense a difference. Unlike other days, I slipped out of the bed, easily. Stepped out of the bedroom which unlike the other days wasn’t pulling me back to the bed. Walked outside into the balcony and saw a bright orange disc outlining the horizon. The sun was yet to rise. It looked breathtaking.
Looking at the sky like this I felt calm, at peace, a feeling of no rush within me. Unlike other days I wasn’t required to rush from one task to another. Without stopping to appreciate the world around me. Just hop on hop off like a monkey. That’s what modern life has reduced our lives to. Instead, I could just stand and see the sky changing colors. See the sun popping its head up above the mountains, and trees tripping slowly in the gentle breeze of the morning.
“Why don’t I do this more often?” this question popped into my head. “Why don’t I break the routine?”
There is an experiment involving a set of monkeys who are put in a room. It is a spartan room, except a ladder which is placed in the middle, and a bunch of bananas hanging right above it, within hands’s reach. There is also a contraption involving a stick, joined to the roof above the ladder. It involves a simple lever mechanism, which is sensor activated to tap on the head of any monkey who decides to climb up the ladder and pluck out a banana.
Monkeys don’t understand a contraption which can bang their heads. They only see bananas, and feel an urge to eat them. So they climb up the stairs – that’s the only way to reach them. They climb up, and get a not so gentle tap on their hands. They immediately withdraw, now sensing something is wrong.
Now monkeys are monkeys. They don’t see a sensor and a stick and a futility of trying. So they try it. Again and again. But only to be banged on their heads. The pain rising with every bang. After a bunch of attempts, they get the idea about the futility of such attempt.
Continue to the remaining part here.
Also published on Medium.