No matter how hectic my day is, I always try to find time to be in nature. Fortunately, I have been blessed to live next to large plots of nature. In California, I lived next to orange groves and the beach. In NYC, Central Park was essentially my front yard. This story begins, however, in Albuquerque, New Mexico.
My parents have a beautiful home with a spectacular view of the city of Albuquerque and the Rio Grande bosque. Every morning, I’m awoken by the sun rising over the Sandia and Manzano mountains. However, I still schedule time to ride my bike down to the Rio Grande.
It’s on these bike rides that I’m able to clear my head by surrounding myself with things far more important than me. It’s a humbling reminder that no matter what I do, I’ll never sustain an entire ecosystem.
Nature grounds me.
During my rides down to Rio Grande, I’m able to center myself through a combination of exercise and enjoying natural beauty. Quite often I have the pleasure of seeing a crane gracefully grazing the water as it lands, or the sound of a breeze through the trees. Simple moments like these offer a profound sense of peace on their own. Occasionally, I am lucky enough to learn something from nature. This happened to me right before moving to Los Angeles.
For context, I moved to New Mexico to escape the pandemic that ravaged New York City and to take care of my family during the lockdown. With work and my life pulling me to LA at the beginning of 2021, I felt I had left one frying pan and was jumping into another. Put another way, I felt my life was moving in directions I had not intended it to go. On top of that, 2020 revealed some habits in my life that disrupted the parts of my life that were very dear to me.
I felt adrift and out of control.
Thankfully, my regular nature visits saved my perspective on things. One gloomy fall day, seemingly the same as any other, I mounted my bike and darted downhill. Mentally drained from working all day and stressing about my future move, I immediately could tell this ride felt different. Like I was trying to escape something. I sped past an oncoming cyclist, skidded through twists and turns, riding frantically towards the one place I knew could give me peace – even for just a moment.
As I arrived at the Rio Grande bike trail, my worry wouldn’t shut off. It’s as if even nature wasn’t as big as my worries. I continued down the path, but no matter how fast I pedaled; the feeling remained. Perhaps staying on the path was how my worries managed to find me. As this thought crossed my mind, an unmarked trail drew my attention. Maybe I could escape there.
I veered towards the rocky dirt trail and followed it through the bosque. Blue skies were now blocked by the ominous, dead branches of cottonwood trees. There were no people around, nobody but me, the occasional crow, and my problems.
As I continued down the path, I saw an opening ahead with the sound of a stream echoing through. Nearing the stream, the forest opened up to a single bench facing the wide river and setting sun. Exhausting from the ride, I took a moment to catch my breath and enjoy the view. Clearly I couldn’t escape my future. I looked out upon the river and, despite my attitude, couldn’t help but enjoy it.
There I sat, thoughtless, just appreciating what was in front of me.
In my pondering, I recognized something about the river. Although in some places the river flowed freely and uninterrupted, there were banks built up that caused the water to slow down, or even stop. From science class in high school, I recalled that these banks grow over time due to the drought. Once hardened, they would be a part of this river just as much as the water and other life within it.
It then occurred to me that riverbanks were a lot like the bad habits I’ve collected in my life. I also realized that despite the bank’s existence, water still managed to flow. Although the banks disrupted the flow and inhibited the water from flowing freely, the water still flows.
Life is like a steady stream of water; no matter the bad habits, obstacles, worries and obstructions in front of it, the water will still flow.
Life never stops flowing and it’s impossible to escape it and all the obstacles that come with it. The only thing we can control is the banks that we build up that make the flow of life harder. Yes, my life has trials ahead. Yes, I’ve made it harder on myself with the choices I’ve made and continue to make. But unlike the banks of the Rio Grande that will be there for years, I can chip away and eventually remove mine.
We can’t control the flow of life. I can’t avoid the mistakes I’ll eventually make. I can only control the building and erosion of the riverbanks, the bad habits, the things that consistently make life harder for me. The good news is once we realize that, the flow of life widens and opens up new streams, new opportunities for growth and love.