TELL YOUR MOTHER (EARTH)
YOU LOVE HER

I had a bad day yesterday. I was feeling the fatigue of having our in-person business closed for over a year and the overwhelm of how to put it back together. I was on Zoom most of the day, and as the day wore on, the tired voice of the inner-critic got louder until the end of the day it was as if she was shouting at me. And she wasn’t being very nice, I might add. I won’t share what she said, but I can promise it wasn’t pretty.

I was scrambling to finish a meeting so I could meet some longtime girlfriends for our weekly Wednesday afternoon hike on the trails of my Northern California town. The four of us (it used to be five, but Kareline moved to Holland) have hiked together on Wednesdays since our kids were in kindergarten, and now they are about to graduate from high school. So, it’s a hiking group with history and our Wednesdays have been a vital throughline in our lives during the beauty, the grief, the anxiety, the laughter, and everything in between.

I treasure this group. It has been tough over the years to keep the tradition alive and there were many years that the pressure of starting a business didn’t allow me to go (‘allow’ being a questionable word as I myself held the key to the prison of being busy...lesson noted). But, we revived the weekly hike this past year and I’ve made it a priority to plan my workday and responsibilities around getting there.

So, it was a little incongruous yesterday that I was desperate to cancel. My fingers hovered over the text, about to say, “Sorry, but I can’t make it today.

My zoom call had run late and we were supposed to meet at a trail far from my house. I knew I’d be really late and I was already picturing my friends standing at the trailhead, waiting for me. The guilt had set in before I even put my shoes on.

Am I the only one that allows being late for a hike to be a reason to pile on in my brain about all the other things I’m dropping the ball on!?! I was hard at work crafting a mental list of all the other things I suck at. Yes, my friends...we teach what we need to learn.

I was stressed, anxious, tired, and even a little teary. The toll of running a business based on bringing community together during a year that was fiercely keeping us apart was suddenly a flood of emotion. Feelings like a cocktail of grief, stress, hope, determination, grit, and love for the work were rattling through my overactive thoughts. I don’t say this for pity as there has been so much tragedy and pain this past year. I say it because it’s the truth of being a brick-and-mortar business during a time of safety plans, vaccination cards, 25% capacities, and variants. Not life-threatening. But, life-altering, and it hurts nonetheless.

I was 20 minutes late, drove past the trailhead, and then couldn’t park. I was sure I had made a mistake by not canceling. And as I got out of the car, there they were. Girlfriends smiling back at me, patiently waiting. Not looking the least bit annoyed. Reassuring me. Letting me vent for a moment. And then we started to hike.

We climbed a steep, single-track hill above a ravine, passing shiny black bark that looked like varnished wood, and mossy trees still covered in mist. We navigated over roots, tripping sometimes, taking a break for breath as we continued up the incline. We turned right at a flat fireroad, quickly enveloped again in a lining of trees. Chatting about nothing and then quickly changing the subject to real stuff. We talked about the Chauvin verdict and police brutality and the mother bear instinct of protecting children like Ma’Khia Bryant who should have been kept safe by the people she called to help her.

We talked about aging parents, teenagers, and yes, the stress of running a business during these times. The trail opened up suddenly to an expanse that was flooded in light, bright sunshine, and a valley of treetops as far as you could see. We looked at wildflowers and tree burls. We talked about what to make for dinner and dreams of traveling again and annoyances in social media, like how everyone says they’re “just popping on” when they start an Instagram Live (I’m sure I’ve said it, too, but still).

And as we curved around the final loop of our hike, almost ninety minutes later, I realized I felt better. My emotions were calm. My stress was contained. My smile back on my face. The light turned back on inside. The grit, the perseverance, the love was back. In just ninety minutes.

Why? It’s simple. Nature. Fresh air. Flowers. Roots. Skies. Dirt. It heals us from the inside out, and from the outside in. It soothes the little things, and revives strength for the big things. It works.

In an age of social media driven self-care that tells us what to buy, practice, and incorporate into our daily practices to “feel better”, it is nature that is our primal medicine. It is the earth that is our salve. It is fresh air that is our coping mechanism.

On this day, dear ones, go hug a tree, lay in the grass, smell a flower, find shapes in the cloud. May your hands be dirty and your heart be soft. May you get a moment outside. May you get a flower in your sight. May you let for just a second the hurt of the world melt for just a breath. On Earth Day, and everyday, the Earth is our Mother. Tell your Mother you love her. Happy Earth Day to you. And don’t cancel that hike. :)