Finding Presence in the Great Outdoors
Two weeks ago I rescued this crazy, sweet, energetic, dramatic husky mix named Lucy. She is an absolute goofball! This dog does not respect anyone’s personal space (read: jumps on strangers to kiss them on the face when she says “Hello”), but absolutely expects you to respect her personal space when it suits her. My mother has been teasing me that I’m finally getting a taste of my own medicine since I adopted a dog similar to myself… she might be right.
The truth is, I think I found my perfect pup and she and I just mesh together so seamlessly. This past week I took her for what was going to be a moderate three and a half mile hike. After over six miles of moderate to hard terrain, including a good portion of bouldering, we finally got back in the car to make our way home. Stopped at local Colorado chain Good Times to get myself a well-earned cheeseburger and Lucy a much deserved doggie ice cream treat on the way; then proceeded to eat and lay on the couch.
This is more or less an ideal day for me. A beautiful fall hike with my best bud, a great meal and some time to relax. And it was more or less perfect. Though that hike was everything I didn’t know I needed. Which hikes often tend to be for me. I took my time to admire the fall colors and crisp cool fall air and beautiful mountain views. Lucy, of course, did not understand why mom wanted to keep stopping to stare into the distance and take a deep breathe (or drink water!).
Even with my dog staring at me like I was crazy, it was so magical to stand alone on that trail, feel the breeze, watch the leaves float in the wind and just be present in the moment. Days like that have a way of pulling me down to Earth and lifting me up above the clouds all at the same time. They create a kind of magic that is hard to put into words. A feeling somewhere between gratitude and existence that just feels peaceful.
During our time on the trail, I (obviously) took many pictures and even asked others to take a few of Lucy and I together. I wasn’t present every single step of the way. Yet, I allowed myself the space and time to be present for as much of my hike as I could. I took my pictures, then I put my phone away and just watched the world around me, took in the views, colors, scents and sounds. Allowed moments to just slow down and be.
Often I feel that the biggest reason those moments of “being” feel so magical and healing is due to the lack of them we allow ourselves. Particularly in a world where we are rarely alone, even when we are physically alone. Where someone can easily interrupt you watching your favorite TV show or reading a good book by sending you a text message, tagging you in a social media post or making a fast phone call. Of course we have the option to turn off our phones, but so many of us very rarely do. Even the book or TV show really isn’t us allowing ourselves to simply be present with ourselves.
During this crazy year we know as 2020, I have started practicing this “being” in a way I never have before. I have always enjoyed a good hike on my own (or with my dog) and the sense of magic and peace it allows me. But I have historically struggled greatly with allowing myself to be present at home or in my daily life. This year, I have taken moments at home to simply sit in silence, sometimes with a glass of wine, and just allow my mind to open up, relax and take in the world around me and my existence as a human.
It has been a very challenging year for all of us, in some way or another. Allowing myself this grace to sit with myself and feel the magic of the world for even a small moment has opened me up, brought me peace, healed my soul and allowed for new possibilities. That a day hike with my dog can bring about such a simple yet profound realization is one of the beautiful things about the human experience. Doing these small, seemingly insignificant activities and taking brief moments to allow ourselves to be present in our humanity is a blessing we all have access to. I couldn’t recommend it more.
