What My Daily Walks Taught me About Healing

My daily walking ritual is one of the few pandemic artifacts I can joyfully continue well into the future.  What started out as a way of escaping the confinement of quarantine turned into a practice I cherish. I've been given so many  lessons on my long walks about the neighborhood and beyond. I’d like to share some with you. First, I’ve been delighted by awe and wonder. Taking a moment to use my phone’s identification feature or iNaturalist, I’ve been getting to know my flora and fauna neighbors. Most recently, I ran into a distressed raccoon and was able to assist them in finding medical care. Small and defensively hissing, It also would have been easy to overlook my little “trash panda” neighbor, but how amazing that he survived whatever encounter laid him low to run into me and find some safety again. 

We label things as desirable and not so desirable, but I know that so much has hidden purpose. So much that we may want to run from may actually need our attention and respect, even bugs. Another regular companion as of late has been the snout butterfly. The grand migration they’ve been taking has captured my attention on multiple occasions. They remind me to  look at my buzzy companions on my walks with a little more reverence.Pollinators and their partners have also taught me about collaborative relationships. What relationships have made you feel more able to be at your best? Being impressed by the beauty of foliage our pollinators dance in led me to try my hand at a little gardening. Which comes with even more teachings if you’re willing to listen.

My first lesson was, you’ve got to tend for results. There’s just no way for anything to flourish without giving the right attention. So tending faithfully taught me patience.The right attention is different for each individual. For example, tropical plants will thank you for creating humidity. Even a little acid can promote growth for those evolved to love it. When was the last time you asked yourself, “What are my ideal conditions for growth?” While you're at it, can you ask yourself not to judge your needs? You didn’t make them up. They’re just yours. Let them be yours and see what happens. 

Just when you think you’ve got it though, you may have  to remember that seasons change and with them so do our needs. Lots of water in the summer that was once a lifesaver can become a death sentence in the fall. Change sure can be frightening if you don’t know what to expect. It could be worthwhile to familiarize yourself and take notes on what impacts you can expect when seasons change. Maybe spring brings you allergen-related misery instead of floral joy. Knowing yourself can make all the difference.Speaking of expectations, the plants also taught me that repotting can bring shock. If you recently moved into a new routine, new space, or new job, I bet you have more room to breathe, but remember to assess for shock. I suppose no life form likes to move, but move we must.

Sometimes we outgrow where we are; sometimes it stops being safe. Movement is so hard, but it  can be easier with the right tools. I wish someone told me that  before I tried to dig a hole large enough for an oak sapling with a spade. Even so, it was an opportunity to learn another lesson, becoming good at something takes practice and time; a lesson, my recovering perfectionist self needed to hear.Sometimes, you’ve got to move on to someplace where you feel like you belong. The garden also had a lesson for me about being in connection with  diversity; diversity strengthens everything. Blight can devastate but sometimes when you’re a little different than your neighbors, you might have the right stuff to survive. Also sharing naturally occurring resources through making hybrids has saved so much from loss. I’m thankful for the oddballs in my life, who are willing to stay weird. 

One of my hardest lessons is recent. I heard from life and gardening teacher, Levert Blout,  that in order to encourage fruiting in plants like tomatoes, sometimes, you need to stress your plants out. WHAT?! This one stumped me. Why would anything produce anything under stress?! Well you see, sometimes your comfort zone does not encourage you to try something new. Maybe, like the tomatoes, you could benefit from getting uncomfortable and leaning on your scaffolding as you rise higher. That scaffolding part is key. We can only grow when we know there’s somewhere close by to hold on to. Finally, even when I think all is lost, I remember, sometimes things pop back up. Plants I’ve tossed into the backyard plant cemetery have reemerged and sprouted again. You know more than you think. You too are a part of nature with instincts and feelings. As you learn to listen to them, you may find a wealth of knowledge. Go check out what lessons about your internal world are waiting for you outside!