I don’t know what they’ll take from it—these experiences we’re giving them. These habits we’re forming.
Get outside. Get away from it all.
Learn to listen. Learn to see.
Move your body. Learn to be still.
Appreciate.
Don’t just consume. Don’t just demand.
Create. Feel. Give thanks. Give back.
Feel your place in something very large.
I don’t know. I hope they get it. I hope they go out there and find fulfillment. I hope their hearts grow roots in nature & its direct ties to Divinity. I hope it anchors them. I hope it feels like home.
Need
We climbed back in the car recently after a family outing outside, and I was completely ebullient. Deeply exhaled joy over the saturated colors of mid fall and crisp air and wide open space to breathe and move and see and feel. Nothing incredible. Just beauty. Just my people. Just… space. Being. Peace. AIR.
“It’s like MEDICINE to you.” Dan expressed emphatically. “I don’t think you know how good it’s going to be for you until you get back.”
“It IS,” I acknowledged, camera around my neck for the first time in a month, pondering on the fading light of golden hour and how very much I need to see it. Need to notice. Need to unplug. Need to create. Need to catalog the beauty, the light, the shadows. Not just mentally but physically. Artistically. Habitually.
“It really is.”