FINDING SOMETHING NEW IN THE FAMILIAR

 

Fort Macon State Park, Bogue Banks, NC

Finding something new in the familiar is happening more and more these days.  We know why.  The familiar has become our all.  We're staying put and valuing our routines.  This often happens as the days shorten.  But even more with the virus still making many of our decisions. Today I found something new in my familiar.  

We alternate between home in the North Carolina Piedmont and home at the beach, where my parents lived before my mother's final illness.  So much it became home to them that they asked for their ashes to be commingled and scattered in the ocean.  Many of my beach memories include my parents.  I feel them as we cross the causeway onto the island.  So yes, it is a familiar place. 

There's a fort at the eastern end of the island, Fort Macon, built between 1826 and 1834 further inland from the site of an earlier fort subsumed by water when the high tide line advanced.  Everyone goes there.  The Fort for years protected Beaufort Inlet; Blackbeard's pirate ship, Queen Anne's Revenge, lies in just 20 feet of water off the shoreline.  We have lots of pirate re-enactments around here.  Fun for everyone.  

The other day I found a 3.3 mile trail winding through the sand dunes, maritime forest and wetlands in Fort Macon State Park.  I had never seen it before.  Just a narrow path of wood chips on sand.

Most of Bogue Banks is developed so there aren't too many spots where the dunes are high enough to obscure any sight of the ocean.  Here they are.   

We had a wonderful leisurely hike, except when pockets of tiny black salt marsh mosquitoes assaulted us in the wetlands.  We picked up our pace then, slapping our arms and legs and necks as we hurried on. Somehow we had forgotten that even in late October we might need bug spray.  Still it was worth it.  We saw a lot of Painted Lady butterflies, a few herons daintily stepping across the wet grass and a corn snake or two. 

When the trail we were on crossed the Fisherman's Path we could see the ocean and the rock jetty.  (See "Visit North Carolina for the Simple Pleasures," 2/23/19)

These days this was more than enough adventure for me, something new in my familiar. The pleasure seemed out-sized.  I still feel it.  A walk through a local neighborhood, a different part of the city, an adjacent town, a forest trail, or a bike ride somewhere new.  All safely outdoors and socially distanced.  Perfect. 
 

THINKING HEALTHIER

I just completed my 3-day Urban Retreat.  It was at Duke Integrative Medicine, down the road from me.  A peaceful center with trails, fountains, rock piles, Quiet Rooms, labyrinths . . . .

We spent 3 days mostly in silence.  I never thought I could do that.  Partway through, during a sharing time, one member said, "Meditation is simple but not easy."  AMEN to that!  I love the mindfulness.  Being present in a non-judgmental way.  Stepping back when thoughts become difficult (intrusive thoughts--the reason I got into this in the first place) and observing.  "Now I am thinking X."  Sometimes I say, "Now I am thinking this thought that is wasting my time."  Not sure how non-judgmental that is, but it definitely gives me perspective.  

We also practiced bringing kind awareness to our thoughts or worries and letting them be--without analyzing, suppressing or encouraging, just letting them run their course.  Shortly they will be replaced by other thoughts and other emotions, maybe pleasant ones.  After all, our mind spends its day thinking.  

One way to think of mindfulness is as prioritizing.  None of us has much problem prioritizing work and family, some days work gets more attention, some days family.  But some experts say that being good to ourselves is a prerequisite to everything else.  Not hedonism or self-indulgence, but self-compassion. Surely nothing in God's Word tells us otherwise. It is not hard to see that being kind to ourselves would be pleasing to God. And that self-acceptance is part of our journey of faith. 

If we treat ourselves as kindly as we do our children or a good friend or even a loved pet, we're also in a way fostering our independence.  I like that idea.  If we can self-soothe--maybe sing to our self, read the Psalms, make our self a warm drink or even rock our self to sleep--it's like being our own care-giver.  

On the retreat we also practiced meditative walking.  Walking and the Lord's Prayer go hand-in-hand quite nicely.  I tried that when walking the labyrinth, then added other prayers.  Or saying the Rosary if you are Catholic.  Or just reciting your gratitude list.  

I've found other repetitive tasks where I can meditate as well.  Sweeping is one, long strokes back and forth on the deck, drive and patio.  Or raking.  Many outside chores. Cooking too--chopping, stirring, kneading, patting, pounding.  My mom used to pat her meatloaf gently, like you would a baby's bottom. I can see her doing it. 

 
I feel like these practices can help us have a healthier mind. And maybe help us be more fruitful in our Christian life. What do you think? 

  





 

PHOTO WALKING AND FOREST BATHING . . .

Two great terms I keep running across.  Making a walk more mindful by looking more closely at things, taking photos of what's beautiful or interesting, what catches our heart, creating memories and mementos as we go.  Walking and creating.  Not walking for exercise exactly, no cardio workout.  No jogging at intersections.  More visionary, joyful movement connecting us with our environment.  I loved photo walking in New York City, creating my own mini version of Humans of New York (Brandon Stanton, 2013).  Only I photographed bins of produce on the sidewalk, I have no idea why. The colors I suppose, the ripeness and seasonal changes.  Photo walkers do say having a theme is fun.

One photo walker says the images she snaps are "like little gems for the soul." (Tracey Ellis, Calm Moment) 

I photo walked the other day in a place where I hadn't been for some time.  Duke Gardens is a 55-acre botanical garden.  I stuck to the Asiatic Arboretum, 18 acres of restful beauty.  There were stepping stones to navigate, stone lanterns and water basins, a tea house, arched bridges, and a wealth of plants common in Southeast Asia.  So enchantingly serene on an overcast day.  

The gardens are a short walk from Duke Hospital.  I took my walk after a clinic visit.  It's a wonderful place for patients and their families to take a break.  A place to recover from difficult news or give thanks for healing, of every sort. I was happy that my long (5 months now) recovery from surgery is at the stage where I wanted to walk.

Forest bathing is just as enjoyable, and can produce mementos as well. I always gather pine cones, heaps of them, to use as starter wood for a fire. They smell good, they crackle and pop, and they're renewable.  Forest bathing means immersing ourselves in the forest atmosphere.  The Japanese call it shinrin-yoku, forest bath.  This time we leave our phones and cameras at home (or at least turned off).  We luxuriate in the forest much as we would in a pond or ocean or even a fragrant tub filled with water.  Let it embrace us.  Touch the bark, smell the pine needles and cypress, admire the red bud trees, crunch the hickory nuts, walk barefoot on the moss.

In the forest the oxygen levels are different than in the city.  We inhale aromatic compounds from plants called phytoncides.  The sounds are different, the paths underfoot are different.  It takes attention to walk in the forest.  Rocks to hop, roots to navigate, branches to jump over, trails to locate or create.  We must do it mindfully.  I live in the country along with the deer, hawks, turkey vultures and owls.  And an infinite number of squirrels ruining my pot-plants as they hunt for the hickory nuts they buried.  The other day my husband saw a fat woodchuck right on our back patio.  This morning when I took Mr. Wiggles out birds were making noise from all locations, some near, some far, doing their own call and response.  So I can luckily do my forest bathing close to home.  But making it more intentional by seeking out a forest or garden is just as good, maybe better.  

Dr. Quing Li is the author of Forest Bathing:  How Trees Can Help You Find Health and Happiness.  He talks about our sixth sense being our state of mind. In a forest bath we engage the other five senses with the natural world.  Seeing the play of sunlight, the myriad shades of green; smelling the fragrances, damp soil, pungent animal aromas, flowering trees; feeling the breeze and the path beneath our feet, touching everything we encounter, fungi, tree bark, moss and water, wading in pools or creeks; hearing the sounds of rustling, hooting, howling, splashing. . . .  Just a bit of forest or garden will do.  It doesn't have to be large; we aren't going anywhere.  It's not a walk or run or jog.  Just meandering as you please and opening all the senses.  With all this combining in our consciousness our sixth sense, our state of mind becomes one with nature.  We're calmer, more relaxed, happier.  Our blood pressures lower, our immune systems and mental health improve.  We can do this for ourselves in any weather.  Doesn't a spring shower and a good rain slicker sound like a good combination for shinrin-yoku?

Until the North Carolina heat takes over and the mosquitoes keep us inside I'm going to photo walk and forest bathe to my heart's content. Free and healthy! I hope you enjoy it too.