Hi y’all,
I hope you are well. I’m finally getting some time to send out what I’ve been writing lately, expect some more posts soon. :)
I recently got back from a week in the middle of nowhere and it was a good hard reset. It’s bringing back themes I’ve been thinking about the past year, asking me to re-evaluate my relationship to the internet, to society, to the outdoors. I felt in my bones, the thing I tell myself every day: it is enough to just exist.
And exist I did. Without easy (and mostly, any) access to the internet. Without my horde of books and teas and candles. Without the pressure to be a person in society. Without a shower for a few days. Without thinking about what I looked like, how I was perceived.
In nature, even with the people on the trail, you are just you, a human next to some birds and a rock and a mountain. Probably covered in dirt, definitely covered in sweat.
And I did hard things. I climbed up part of a mountain and down and up another trail with such altitude changes I’m still amazed I made it back. But I did. I challenged myself to go farther than I wanted to, and I did. I learned to listen to my body when it was done, to set limits based on what it said. And I did.
I did some easy and wonderful things, like picnicking at a visa at sunset. Reading and reading and more reading in the quiet. Enjoying an abundance of quality time and good conversation with my partner. Sitting with the constant awe of nature, watching the landscape change around me.
Oh and all that anxiety I felt about driving? Gone! It was easy. It was long. But it wasn’t the end of the world. Amazing the things our anxiety tells us to obsess over.
Some lessons I wrote down throughout the trip:
I need to be even more intentional with my screen time and time on the internet. Browsing here and there is fine, but most of the time, I want to only do it with a purpose. Time offline is closer to the life I want to live.
Hiking has always been one of the most joyous things for me, but now, with proper socks, sun protection, and trekking poles, I can focus more on enjoying doing the thing. There’s no countdown until I get blisters, and less worry about sunburn. I spend less time trying to balance and more just moving. It’s a game changer for me.
I need to be more serious about taking on less stress. I need to get back to a slower pace.
I often take where I live for granted, I need to make the most of it and enjoy the things that keep me here.
Singing along to my favorite music, driving at 80 mph through a national park is a spiritual experience for me.
Change is a part of life, stop resisting it. This is a lesson I have to relearn every few years.
Here is the song I sung the loudest to on the drive back:
That’s all for now, folks!
Steph