Resetting

A walk in the woods is a bit of magic, a serenity prayer made real. I come to the woods heavy with troubles, my muscles tight with anxiety, my mind a spiral of busy thoughts landing nowhere. 

The hardest part is the start. Even on my way to a hike, I am thinking of other things I should be doing. The siding needs to be pressure-washed. The kids need new winter clothes. There’s a job application I left half-finished. 

But if I can will my car to the turn-off for the trail, if I can avoid checking my phone before walking across the gravel parking lot to the worn dirt path, then I can let the woods work their special alchemy.  Even a ten-minute stroll can reset the soul and steady me for the tasks ahead. Longer walks have the potential to deliver serenity, courage, and - if I’m lucky - a little bit of wisdom.

The restoration comes fast, and by the time the trail angles back toward the parking lot I am pinched with a small sadness of my time in the woods coming to an end. So I pause, tilt my head back, and watch the trees stretch up toward the cutting blue above. 

And then I start again.