What do you want to be known or remembered for? Your career accomplishments? How much money you have? A big, fancy house in a nice neighborhood with expensive cars? How many gifts you gave? The number of followers you have on social media? Or perhaps we’d rather be remembered for how kind we are to everyone, including strangers. How well we listen. How often we share our time with friends, family, and those in need. These might be worthwhile ideas to ponder.
Recently, I’ve learned about a growing trend to try to reach across our divide, and instead of focusing on our differences we attempt to mostly listen to another’s ideas, and then speak – only if granted permission to share our own opinions. This tends to foster more connections instead of further alienation. It can be difficult, but practice makes better. I’m working on it.
Today, I’m sitting down in the dry creekbed, pondering these concepts while feeling extremely grateful for this beautiful warm day. The sunlight filters through the oak canopy above and the new blades of grass press upward through the moist soil, becoming a lovely green carpet. I breathe in the fresh, clean air as a Northern Flicker calls nearby. My oh my, lucky me.
I was, once again, sitting in a friend’s yard the other day, eating burritos in the bushes. It’s quite a treat for both of us—to sit outside amongst the chaparral, enjoy good conversation, and eat delicious burritos which I pick up on the way over there. Our discussions often drift from ancient Native American ways of life and art, a shared distaste of pop culture, and our growing concern about the decrease in our population’s connection with nature.
“I gotta say, I’m quite worried about the nature deprivation that, seemingly, most people live with.” I personally know individuals who rarely spend any time at all outside, and when inside have all the windows and curtains closed and rely on climate-controlled heat or AC. By the way, I don’t use curtains as they block out the natural light and fresh air coming in through the windows—free of charge, utilizing no damaging man-created energy. Besides, if I don’t go outside at least several times each day, I just do not feel good—mentally, physically, or spiritually.
My friend said, “I’m just glad we lived back in the real world.”
“Me too.”
Stillness is a concept well worth practicing, but is sadly overlooked in the usual hustle and bustle of our current culture. Can’t we sense there’s a problem when sleep won’t come without background noise; or we don’t drive anywhere without listening to the radio, a podcast, or be on the phone; or do chores without earbuds, providing whatever distractions that catch our fancy? How about simply plain, old-fashioned quiet? We might find that it’s not really all that silent or “boring” and perhaps we’ll begin to hear ourselves contemplating.
I often find myself wandering along a rugged path or along the dirt road and just stop and stand there—taking it all in. Then I’m aware of the deep blue sky, a beautifully-shaped oak tree, interesting crack formations in a boulder, a hawk calling from overhead… The scent of sagebrush always lightens my mood and brings on a smile. Similar natural connections can be available almost anywhere. I believe they are worth seeking out, and by making them a daily ritual they can bring balance and healing to our fragmented souls.
So, how about the next time we’re stuck in rush hour traffic, or waiting in a long line to be served, let’s smile and wave to those around us. It’ll probably make us feel better while giving us something else to think about instead of getting impatient and angry. And it could lighten the mood for anyone near us. Who knows? This simple act might even lead to a ripple effect of kindness.
Chi Varnado has published six books including fiction, nonfiction and children’s books. They are available on www.amazon.com. Her collection of essays, Quail Mutterings, can be found on www.chivarnado.com or www.dancecentrepresents.com.
She is available to adults and children for fun tutoring in writing.
