Yesterday, as I pulled my creaky body out of bed, I was filled with internal debate: Should I go out for my daily hike, or should I give myself a day of rest? I didn’t have to decide right away. I settled in with a cup of tea and journaled, all the while my subconscious worked the problem.
Eventually, I came to the conclusion: Yes, I needed to go for a hike. I didn’t have time for a long one, but I knew once I got out there, my body would work out the aches and pains and I would be happy I did. Even though I would have a long list of valid reasons if I didn’t go, in my heart I would know them as excuses and feel guilty. There was really no question at all, in the end.
I walked the forest path, listening to the bird song, and soaking in the steadiness of the forest. I shared the joy of being in the open, free to roam, with my enthusiastic canine companion. I was filled with a buoyancy and lightness, a happiness that only comes in these moments on the trail.
There is something for me in the forest I can’t explain. There is a communication that lies beneath perception. It is an acceptance of all that I am, almost an absolving of all that I am not. There is no judgement in the forest. It is there whether I am or not, but it welcomes me as part of it, part of a greater system, for a brief time every morning.
I leave the forest with my soul scrubbed clean, refreshed, renewed, and ready for whatever the day brings.