A few months ago my husband and I spent a day hiking in Muir Woods. We had gone on a big road trip in the spring around the American Southwest and visited a number of national parks, all of which were stunning and awe inspiring. When we got home it occurred to us that we didn’t have to go so far to experience more of that since we had one of the great parks about an hour drive from our house. So reservations were made (and here I make a plug for purchasing the America the Great park pass – well worth it) and off we went.

It’s beautiful. It’s surprising in the variability of the landscape, you can take an easy walk through Redwood trees along a boardwalk or you can take more vigorous hikes up through the hills and mountains that create the valley of the park. I was born in the county that contains the park, raised within a two hour drive, lived in the area my whole life and yet had never gone. My husband had been once decades before. I would recommend a visit if you are the area, reservations are required, and the government needs to be open (that is true for many reasons). This, however, is not really a travel review; it is a reminder that we need to pay close enough attention to what we are doing to be surprised, to be pushed to grow out of fixed perspectives, to allow the experiences we have to change us, not just to consume those experiences and check them off a bucket list.

As we walked along the boardwalk in the valley I stopped to read the sign above; I expected it to be information about owls because I saw an owl pictured. I like owls and was curious to learn about the ones in the area but instead I was shocked and delighted to be invited into an exercise of altruistic mindfulness. At the time my husband and I both said, ‘how cool that the national park service put up this kind of prompt, not just facts and details.’ We talked about the value of giving people opportunities to think differently, but we didn’t answer the questions at the time. So now I invite you to do this with me: take a short walk, or close your eyes and imagine a forest for a few minutes if you can’t get out right now, breathe for just a moment or two in this space. When you are ready answer these questions – you can leave a comment or share with a friend or just wonder them to yourself. I’ll go first.

I find meditation calming, that seems obvious, but for some it can be a stressful place of trying, for me it is a space of surrender and breath and enoughness. Being in the garden, cooking, playing guitar. These are all calming and usually moments of joy.

The best thing that happened to me in the last year is that I learned in a new way that I can do hard things that I am afraid of. It has allowed me to ask for help, to question the stories about my abilities that were told to me and then I told to myself, and I am learning how to be happy without a lot of what our social system tells me I need.

My wish right now would be that a friend I have would find sustainable, gainful employment in the field for which he was trained. He is a refugee with a big family and has struggled with the rules and regulations of our system; maybe this is a wish for greater flexibility in that system, or better help for people who are trying to navigate the upheaval of fleeing danger, but I just want him to get a decent job, to feel more empowered to care for his family, to change the course of those lives and all the people they touch.

Your turn…