Perspective

Yesterday, I took a perspective day.

I didn't know that that was what I was doing at the outset, but it turns out I desperately needed it. I think we could all use one once in a while.

I packed up a bag with PB & J and a blanket and headed to a local park with my girlfriend. The park wasn't too far outside the city, so I was impressed by its size. It was a pretty big place.

We parked the car and started walking. It was while walking that I had my first mini-revelation. Why am I walking so fast? I realized that despite the fact that I had arranged the day in such a manner as to slow down and relax, I was tramping along the trail with a determined sense of going somewhere... but where. Slow down, you're missing it all!

So I did. And I started noticing things. I noticed that this part of the forest had experienced a blight of some sort, because most of the tallest trees were bare and crumbling. Several of them had already toppled, crisscrossing the forest floor like colossal matchsticks. I saw that the earth below me, aside from the trail, was very uneven and broken. In many places there were small openings, like weeping arteries in the Earth, from which groundhogs, skunks, rabbits, moles, snakes, and perhaps the occasional fox issued forth.

I stopped to examine some ferns later down the path. They were hanging out near a stubborn copse of evergreen trees. I fancied that the fern looked just like it would have about a hundred million years ago as all sorts of large reptilian beasts clamored over the taste of it. I wasn't brave enough to taste it myself though. Maybe next time.

Farther along I approached a gentle grade downhill in the trail. The effect of the slope was that I was able to see some of the trees in the park from a close vantage point that was mid-trunk. These were no redwoods, but some varied in height from 60-80 feet. While staring at these timeless oaks and maples and willows, I felt a good deal of tension unwinding inside me. I saw, with stark clarity, that my frustrations and worries were trivial when compared to this world, regardless of how serious they may have seemed to me.

The truth is, that towering tree was bearing the burden of storms and snow and rejoicing in the sunlight perhaps centuries before I was born. That same tree would likely be standing still after my time had passed, sustained by the light and the rain, and coaxed into perpetual motion by a gentle breeze.

It was a good day to remind me of the significant nature of my insignificance.

I recaptured a sense of what was really important yesterday. I rejoiced that I was agile and capable enough to explore off-trail and trudge down into the river gorge. I delighted in the process of teaching my companion how to skip rocks across the thin vein of shimmering water that had carved the high walls of the gorge. I remembered what it was like to walk quietly, breathe quietly, and talk quietly, so as not to impose upon the stillness around me. I remembered how to listen to the wisdom all around me.

I recommend you take a perspective day too. I promise you'll come back refreshed too.

Yours Truly,

The Conscientious Observer

Live each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influences of each.

- Henry David Thoreau