Why I Need Wild
Hello Blog,
This is my final blog entry for Treks & Texts, and for it I was asked to answer one question on a personal level: why do I need wild? I decided to make a poem:
I need wild because it asks nothing of me
no deadlines, no plans, no carefully constructed future,
no scrolling through apps that never quiet
always demanding I keep up.
In wild places, I have watched animals
who do not wonder why they are here.
They just simply are.
The gorilla with her baby,
the birds calling back and forth above my yard,
the cat that plays in the street,
moving at exactly the speed it wants to move.
I need that reminder.
I need the clouds in Hawaii
dancing slow circles around the sun,
and the waves at Kailua
that looked nothing like the waves at North Shore
a whole world of difference
if you are still enough to notice.
I need the shift that happens
when you cross the state line into Arkansas
and suddenly, the trees close in around the highway
and your stress lifts
and your chest loosens.
I have always loved nature.
But this semester, I learned what it does to me
it is not just beautiful,
it is the only place
where I am not required to be anything at all.
And I have started to grieve
how much of it we have paved over,
and how much we lose
every time another road goes in
where something living used to be.
I need wild
because I need a place
that does not need anything back.
Before this class, I knew I loved being outside. Reflecting on my first post, I had written about walking, biking, swimming, horseback riding, and growing up between Arkansas and Oregon in landscapes that felt endlessly open. But loving something and understanding why you love it are different things, and this semester helped me understand.
What I have figured out is that I need wild because it is the only space where I am not performing anything. On my phone, I am always texting friends or on social media. In class, I am working and stressing over exams. Even in conversations, I am working to actively listen and respond. But lying in my backyard watching ants move in lines across the concrete, or standing at the edge of a gorilla enclosure watching a mother and her baby, is where I get to stop working my brain and just be.
The animals I have observed this semester have stayed with me in a specific way. This is something I noticed quickly while at the zoo last Tuesday -- they exist gracefully, and they do not appear to hasten around worrying about the past or future. I feel it is grounding, being near organisms that are here to be here, and are not searching for purpose or building toward anything. This has been a nice reminder for me, because this year I was diagnosed with ADHD, as well as a few other health problems. I started to obsess over my health because I was scared of the prospect of being unhealthy. This semester, I have started to relax and let my body move where it wants, and I have been doing much better mentally and physically because of it. I have said it in plenty of my blogs, but everyone needs that reminder!
I also did not expect to feel grief this semester, but I am aware of how much free land we have lost due to scaling our communities. Part of me has grown quietly resentful of how little open space we protect, and I do not think that feeling goes away. Now I feel more similar to the mindset of Abbey.
I came into this class as someone who liked being outside. I am leaving it as someone who understands that I actually need it. I began writing poems whenever I was tanning by myself this semester, and I really like this one that I made yesterday.
i am so impressed by what you've written, your poem and your descriptions.
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