Tourist in Your Own State, Part II - Appreciation Lesson

Tourist in Your Own State, Part II - Appreciation Lesson - EVERGREEN, COLORADO

Yesterday, we took the fam and went on a leisurely hike with some friends (and their friends). We drove about 40 minutes to an open space called "Lair O' the Bear" near Evergreen, CO.

For me, it was a lesson in patience and appreciation.

For starters, we didn't get off to the quickest start. Getting 2 adults, a preschooler and a baby out of the house is tough enough. Then try hooking up with a pregnant couple with anotehr preschooler, plus another entire family. We were already about an hour behind schedule when we left town.

But once we got there, the waiting continued. There was sunscreen to apply, hats to don and supplies to pack. Finally, we set off.

But we didn't go far. See, when you go hiking with 4 kids under the age of 5, there are mostly stops...a LOT of stops. We stopped every 200 feet or so to look at the water. To poke long sticks into the water and say "I'm catchin' a fish." Every puddle brought new discoveries, adn there were multiple potty breaks (apparently it's hilarious to pee in teh woods). There were dogs to watch, kids to say hello to and bikers to step aside for.

Once we started to get hungry, it was time to search for a picnic spot. Thirty minutes later, we were spread out in a circle, munching on deli sandwiches from Heidi's. Rick and I were missing the avocado from out BLTAs, but we were still in good spirits. Sally at about 3 bites of her hot dog and decided she was done. C'est la vie.

OK, so by now you're probably clear on where I got the lesson in patience, but waht about appreciation?

Ooooh, appreciation came in anbundance of ways this time. Since Andy and I have been learning more about rocks, stones and crystals, we were paying attention to all teh rock formations, as well as the rocks we saw in the creekbed and along the path. Water running on the path had a golden glimmer, most likely from specs of pyrite gleaming in teh dirt. I began to notice the vast amount of rocks, on this one short path, and I wondered about all the rocks in Evergreen...in Colorado...in the U.S....in the world. Damn, that's a lotta rocks.

Periodically, I would think to look UP instead of DOWN, and each time, I was rewarded with magnificent vistas. I was grateful to have brought my camera It made me wonder why I looked down so often when walking, or straight ahead. It made me wonder why baseball caps have such broad brims (well, I suppose to protect me from the sun, since that was why I wore the hat in the first place) that prevent us from seeing what is above us.

Each time the kids stopped to get a better look at things, I was reminded of the wonder adn beauty of nature, and how quickly we learn to take it all for granted. Despite our best efforts to be patient, it seemed we were constantly reminding them to come along, hurry up, let's go, catch up to teh group. Then, as soon as they were going at a fairly fast clip, we'd ask them to hold on, wait up, hang tight, let the rest of hte group catch up.

I wondered what these kids were soaking up. What were they learning about group dynamics? Nature? Danger? (The water was rushing at a fair clip...each time they got too close to the water's edge, all 6 parents would tense up visibly.) What were they learning about family outings? About weather? About mud and dirt and water and bugs? About social itneraction? About peeing in teh woods?

Most often, my thoughts drifted around my experience. What could I learn from teh encounter?

I learned that children are not concerned at all wtih the illusion of TIME. IT didn't really matter to them if the trail was long, short, hot, cold, or what, as long as they could play and explore and be together. I learned that as adults, we are consumed with TIME worries. Even out here in teh woods, with nowhere to go (really) and all day to get there (and back), we still looked at our watches from time to time.

How long did it take us to get halfway? Should we take the scenic trail, is there enough time? What time should we eat? What time did we get started? Is it time to feed the baby yet?

My 3 year-old's montessori school teacher told me taht at this age, they really have no concept of time. At first, I remember thinking "how am I going to teach her about time?" but now I see that she is truly fortunate to not have any time worries. I probably have enough for us both.

(In fact, she keeps telling anyone who'll listen that she's having a birthday. Really? When? they ask. "January" is her response. It might as well be tomorrow, for all she knows/cares.)

When do we lose this sense of wonder? When do we lose our ability to discover everything newly?

I think it's a skill that dulls with teh acceptance of responsibility. In our efforts to be responsible, we focus our attention elsewhere, and we may forget to appreciate all that surrounds us.

To return to that childlike sense of wonder as an adult, it takes time (ironic, isn't it?) We must practice the skill of wonder and awe, and sharpen our taste for it.

I certainly feel like yesterday was a chance for me to appreciate teh glories of nature, and all that surrounds me.

How about you?

What are YOU taking for granted? What are you willing to notice differently, to explore newly? Where in your life can you be wondrous and mystified?

Go for it!

The whole day was simply fascinating for me. I enjoyed every minute of it.