Someone I am connected to on social media posted an interesting question last week. She asked what habits we’ve put into practice that have materially changed our lives. I responded to her post advising that I make sure I get time outside every single day.
It doesn’t matter if it’s snowing or raining or windy or super cold or insanely hot. It is hugely important to me that I breathe fresh air. And I do not mean the fresh air that I suck in my garage just before I hop into my car (I’m usually wearing a mask then anyway). I mean 100% legit actual fresh air.
Obviously, there is something to be said for good ol’ Vitamin D, sunshine. We quite literally need it. It’s not just that though, because as I just shared, I venture outside in all kinds of weather. It is the actual fresh air. It helps my body and soul. I know you may have just rolled your eyes just now (sounded cheesy, right). It’s true though. Fresh air helps circulation, digestion, and overall peace of mind.
There are so many different components that are meaningful for me. Obviously, fresh air became particularly meaningful or critical during this pandemic. Given that my socialization was extremely limited and I was working from home, there were many days that I felt lonely and even trapped. I would spend hours on end working from home and using my technology to connect in whatever way I could with the people I care about. Going outside helped me reconnect with the world without any sort of device or conduit. The actual world was right in front of me, at my fingertips, for the taking.
I was able to get out of my tiny studio apartment and breathe and move around in a much bigger world. I was able to see evidence of life everywhere. Cars, houses, people moving about. Evidence of the seasons changing and time moving. There was and continues to be something that is incredibly grounding about that experience. It was so easy early on to get lost in the anxiety of a world growing ever smaller. Stepping outside the front door of my apartment building helped me remember a vast and wide world out there.
Being outside, much like connecting with friends, also enabled me to be grateful for all of those things that couldn’t be bought. I was constantly thinking about all the things that were cancelled and postponed. I was reminded of a life on hold. I was very conscious of the scariness that was the world on pause waiting to see what would happen next. When I stepped outside my front door, I was able to pay attention to all the little things I had been ignoring. The brightest and most colorful flowers, the fluffiest clouds, the fattest rain drops, the dirtiest snow, the slickest ice, the most overfed squirrels.
I know I sound like some off kilter Snow White, but it was really meaningful for me. Being outside unplugged me from social media, the news, and all the insanity. It was just me and my music or maybe an audio book. All the anxiety and unhappiness I felt awaiting some other shoe to drop was suspended for a moment or two.
There is something incredibly basic about nature and all the creatures and things that exist there. Action was taken as a result or driven by survival. There was no lying, deception, or manipulation. Inside there was evidence everywhere of people tearing each other to shreds. No patience, no tolerance, no civility. Outside there was a harmony, an order that naturally existed. Something that for the most part couldn’t be tampered with and that was exactly what the doctor ordered, no pun intended.
Much like seeing the right friend or family member or person, stepping outside and taking a breath, can provide very valuable perspective. We get a moment where we can rebalance, reconsider, and take things on fresh. That sounds trite but it is honestly a truth so far as I’m concerned. I’ve never hidden from anyone that I am emotionally impulsive from time to time, or at least I used to be. Stepping outside is a physical way to take a pause when you think its necessary or useful. It sounds great to be able to do that emotionally and apropos of nothing, but that is just not the way it works for some of us. Sometimes when shit gets real, there’s nothing like pushing your chair back and stepping out of a situation to help respond in a manner that is way more appropriate.
The author Terry Tempest Wiliams wrote: “To be whole. To be complete. Wildness reminds us what it means to be human, what we are connected to rather than what we are separate from.” That thought came to me profoundly over and over again in 2020. Every single time there was evidence of people separating from each other in a very deliberate and even violent fashion, I remembered all the things that unite us, all reminiscent of nature. Our flesh and bones and eyes and mouths. All the ways in which we move in the world.
So yeah, that’s it. As nature, the outdoors, is the great equalizer, it triggers some peace or really, happiness that is unmatched by many other experiences.
In fact, not only did I benefit greatly from getting off my ass and getting outside, but I found myself repeatedly revisiting photos that evidenced the fabulous nature I had been privy to throughout my lifetime. Mountains I had hiked, beaches I had walked, grass I had felt under my feet, rocks I had collected, oceans I had swam in, and trees I had sat under. Even when I wasn’t physically outside, I was able to transport myself looking at those images. I was able to harken back to days when I was surrounded by the beautiful and majestic outdoors and the impact it had on me.
It can be easy, particularly in shitty weather, to want to hunker down inside. Don’t get me wrong as sometimes this is necessary and meaningful. However, sometimes it isn’t at all. Sometimes the best thing that we can do for ourselves is push ourselves right out into that big open wilderness, reminding us of all the ways in which we are truly connected. Leaving behind all the constructs that shouldn’t define us and most definitely separate us.
So, do it. Feel the heat bring sweat to your skin. Feel the burn of cold air on your lungs. Allow your cheeks to chap from the wind. Feel the rain on your toes as it seeps through your sneakers. Appreciate the snowflakes gathering on your eyelashes. Smell the fragrance that flowers put into the air. Listen to the crunch of fallen leaves under your shoes. Do all of it. Love all of it. Live all of it.
Right? Right.
L.
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