Return to nature

It’s been eight months, but I finally returned to my beloved Ramapo Reservation for my first hike of the season. I had almost forgotten the amazing feeling I get from spending a couple hours traversing the nature preserve and all of its offerings to my soul. I was inspired to share some of the benefits I feel every time I trek through nature.

Putting on the hiking shoes

Last summer, I had purchased my first pair of hiking shoes and excitedly went on two outings before I broke my right foot at the gym in mid-August. Sadly for me, hiking was abruptly over for the season (so was walking for that matter). Through my recovery period and the subsequent winter months, the new hiking shoes sat in the mud room on a shoe rack, waiting patiently to be worn again, to support me through the rocky climb aside the rolling waterfalls. I couldn’t wait to wear them again.

Read more musings in Making Strides and Making Strides: part 2. You can also listen to a meditation from one of these nature walks on Spotify.

Finally, my chance came. The third Monday in April during my much-needed spring break from school, the weather forecast was clear and sunny, in the low 50s. This was my chance to get back to all the benefits that a good climb in nature can bring.

Putting the hiking shoes on was like putting on a comfy sweatshirt. They fit so well, just snug and supportive enough to prevent my ankle from twisting on a craggy rock. I wore my layers, put on my hat and drove to my favorite nature spot.

Taking a leap

Where to start is always the big question. I know that I will go up to the waterfalls first before swinging around the upper lake, down the paved and rocky path and around the lower lake. But there are so many entrance points, and I like to explore different ones before I get to the familiar bridge that leads to the falls.

I decided to take a different and what turned out to be more circuitous and muddy route that followed the trout-stocked rivulet at the front of the park. At one point, I came to an area where, in order to get across, I’d have to cross a fallen tree in order to avoid my shoes (and my pants) from getting soaked. It was either that or double back and start again.

I didn’t fall. I stayed dry. I got across no problem and made it to the bridge that took me to the waterfall path that led to the rocky ascent to the lake where the dogs play. 

Entering mindfulness territory

These hikes all start the same way. As I venture onto the path, I find myself moving very quickly, doing my usual fast walk pace, like I’m going through the halls of school. It actually takes me a few minutes to let the magic of the reservation take hold of me; to not be in a hurry and start to notice things. I tell myself that it’s okay not to rush, just enjoy the environment. While I did turn on my Apple Watch to record the hike, I kept pausing it to stop and enjoy the sights:

There are endless spots to stop and enjoy. Every step you take is a different angle, a different sound quality, and depending on where your placement is in this dynamic environment, you’ll receive a completely new experience. I’ve been here so many times and while the feeling is the same, the input changes each time.

That opens the door for new discoveries during every visit. By slowing down, looking closely, looking far away, taking in your surroundings, you see the same place through a new lens. Because of the variety of stimuli, mindfulness becomes a requirement so a) you don’t trip on a rock and twist your ankle and b) you can start to feel your buzzy soul quieting down.

Changing the goals

Usually, I’m a very process and goal-oriented person. I thrive on a well-established structure to anchor my days at work, but when I’m on a hike, I try to change the goal to living in a more impulsive and moment-to-moment way.

Can you believe that I’m so programmed to follow some type of rule system or structure that when my heart tells me to stop along the trail, I actually have to give myself permission to stop? It’s true. It’s hard to believe that at 52 years old, the child in me stills need to look to someone to give me permission to do something, even if it is my adult self.

To be fair, I know that I have people who love me who worry about me, don’t want anything bad to happen and want me to come home in one piece. I really don’t have a desire to suffer injury and I don’t usually tempt fate, but there’s something that calls to me about getting new experiences and taking an adventure all by myself.

This is a chronicle of my first yoga retreat, where I traveled solo to North Carolina to experience a long weekend of Zen. 

Indulging impulses

While I am a very creative person and I love following a good off-the-cuff idea to it’s conclusion, I am not, by nature, impulsive. Even so, there are times when I feel compelled to answer a call from deep in my soul, perhaps one that might raise the eyebrows of people in my inner circle.

The good news is that I am strong, generally pretty sensible, and very aware of my surroundings. I probably approach more impulsive ventures like hiking alone and flipping at the gym with an abundance of caution, but I do feel the urge to take a chance once in a while, like taking a different path or traversing a fallen log to get past a water feature. I’m not an adrenaline junkie by any stretch of the imagination, but I do like to push my boundaries a bit, in which I find I can get pretty entrenched. When given the opportunity, there are times when I like to say “Why not?”

In my personal experience, more so than not, I have found that those chances pay off. Why?

• I pay close attention and plan each step as I go.
• I know what my body can and can’t do.
• I know when it’s okay to push the boundaries a little bit.
• While I have a strong, protective Lizard brain, I also have strong cognitive processes that can often convince Lizard to go to sleep.
• I am adaptable and can figure things out when they don’t go to plan.

What's Lizard Brain? Read about it here.

At one point in the hike, this came to me: do something because you want to do it. This is not about giving you carte blanche to follow every impulse your id chucks at you, but if there is something that’s speaking to you, something you really feel compelled to do or to try, then do it. As an adult, you don’t need permission.

My brain said I wanna climb that. A different part of my brain said Nah, just keep going. You’re batting 1000 on the safety scale. I almost passed it by, but something that made me stop and say No, you’re gonna climb that thing. It’s not enormous – it’s just a big rock. Go.

As I was climbing up, I kept thinking how am I gonna get back down without breaking my neck? That’s when my rational mind took over and reassured me: Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out. You always do. Trusting yourself is always the hardest part of following an impulse as a primarily rational person. What if you’re wrong? What if you can’t?

The better question is, what if you can?

Grounding

I’ve been seeing a lot of buzz about grounding lately, especially social media ads touting “grounding sheets” for your bed that you plug in and they release electrons that are conducted into your body while you sleep. While I understand that people like to jump on bandwagons to make a buck, I am curious about the grounding concept and whether it has any validity (the free version).

The idea behind grounding is that the earth has a bunch of negative ions floating around that, when touched by your skin, can conduct into your body and neutralize free radicals in your bloodstream that cause damage and chronic inflammation. While I am somewhat of a skeptic in general (thanks to decades of being married to my uber-skeptic husband), there have been a lot of studies about the benefits of grounding yourself in the outdoors. Between that and the anecdotal evidence I feel whenever I take one of these hikes, I’m intrigued.

While I don’t love the idea of walking around without shoes on (who knows what animal took a dump there last), I took the opportunity to sit and touch a bunch of the rocks that I sat upon. I even found a cute little flat rock on my descent and carried it in my hand back through the end of the hike. I figured, why can’t the grounding be portable if the rock has been on the ground all this time?

Whether I was feeling the effects of grounding, or the fact that I was surrounded by fresh air in a beautiful, vast nature preserve, I most certainly did feel calmer, slower in my soul, and more at peace. I’m curious to know what my blood pressure was at the beginning and end of the hike. Maybe that’s a little science experiment I can conduct. There’s a definite correlation between spending time in nature and feeling good, at least for me.

Bringing the good feelings home

At the end of my hike, I sat by the edge of the gently flowing river that you have to cross in order to get into the heart of the reservation. It’s filled with trout and people fish in it. I’ve witnessed a group baptism that happened there last year. It’s very peaceful and calm. I left my little flat rock by the edge of the water, hoping that it could pick up a few more electrons and someone else might decide to pick it up.

As I sat there, I found myself wanting to stay longer, but I felt like it was time to go back home. That just means that I will have to return to my place of solace sooner than later. Maybe next time, I’ll take off my shoes for a bit and get those good electrons through my feet. We shall see.