Busyness.
We're all busy aren't we? Running from this thing to the next and then on to the next. What's more is that if I am not abnormally busy one day, I almost feel bad about it. Like it needs an explanation why I am not running about like a chicken without its head. Right around the time I was feeling this way, I came across a pretty interesting article in the Washington Post, "Why Being Busy Makes Us Feel So Good" (link to article). And, bam. There it was. I feel good being busy and honestly when stopping to ponder for a moment, it dawned on me. I've been busy what feels like my entire life. Busyness has been rewarded to be a condition of being good. Perhaps it hasn't always been a cognizant decision or choice but still...what is rewarded creates habit.
This article really made me think.
Several weeks earlier, I was bemoaning my poor sleep. Something I haven't had struggles with in many years. I never felt rested. My mind was always going. It was hard to just relax, be in the moment without feeling my mind racing about all the things I should be doing. Who hasn't felt this way at some time in their life?
Awareness.
It dawned on me that I knew better so I could also choose better. As in most things with life, what's easy is rarely what's rewarding. I wasn't living in my present moment.
Slowly, I've been recalibrating myself to be more fully in the moment at hand. In finding worth and value and joy out of whatever is happening in this moment. Despite my best efforts, there are times when this is very challenging.
In uncovering I needed to recalibrate, my husband and I decided to dedicate one day on the weekend to an outdoor activity. For those that know me well, know that I am an outdoorsy gal. For many reasons, some of which have been talked about in earlier blog posts here, I find being engaged with my natural world around me as a healing, refreshing, spiritual endeavor. There isn't one single time I've come in from being outside and not felt completely and utterly renewed.
So for the past several weeks, Nick and I have been spending one day together partaking in an outdoor adventure. We've kayaked to an uninhabited barrier island for a picnic lunch and we've been hiking a variety of trails. This most recent weekend, we spent a couple of hours hiking a portion of Tiger Creek Preserve (link to info). It was quite a gem and is now one of my favorite park areas in the state. Just outside of Lake Wales, Florida, it's about one and a half hours from my house in St. Pete. Totally worth the drive, especially if you like:
1) blooming orange groves,
2) having a beautiful piece of Florida completely to yourself (we were the first people on the trail in weeks according to the hikers log), and
3) science.
Surmise to say a few years ago - heck a few weeks ago - I may not have "gotten" it. I may not have appreciated it because I was looking for something else, something more grandeur. However, this was different because I was in the moment to notice things. To see the zebra swallowtail dance through the air along the trail; to finally see a glimpse of the elusive Scrub Jay as it flits, hurriedly from bush to bush; to catch the sweet fragrance of orange blossoms scenting the gentle and cooling breeze; to hear only the melodious song of the many birds and our footsteps; to just be there, in that moment.
It was a tough trail because it's mostly scrubby meaning sand that acts like snow capturing each footstep. At times it was slow going up the hills, which are actually Florida's ancient islands. As we muddled through the ascents and declines of the trail, it wasn't far from my mind that we were walking on land that was millions of years old, to a Florida that looked much different from the one I was experiencing at that very moment.
“I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.”
- John Muir
