On long walks through dry bajadas, I tell myself I can shelter from the news. That without cell service, I can protect myself from the barrage of minute-by-minute updates worse than the last. This is a survival instinct, not an attempt to avoid the truth.
Time untethered from technology reminds me of the sweetness of life without it. The warmth of the sun on my back. Long mind-expanding conversations. Silences that massage a weary brain. Laughing with my lover. Sharing a meal. Capturing a sunset view through the best lenses––my eyes.
Animals take me to places beyond my headspace. Scratching sounds from a packrat burrowing into its cholla mound at night. Following big horn tracks up craggy ridgelines; the paths ending at shallow depressions in the shade for sleep and rest. Listening to the sound of bird wings combing still air.
Lately, my walks have led to empty animal homes. Bird nests tucked high in Saguaros or nestled into cholla cactus. An empty desert tortoise shell. Seashells from a distant sea. The skin a snake slithered out of.
Maybe I just notice these things more without a shelter. This winter, Aaron and I left our shells and nests behind too. Most nights, we sleep on the ground. I think of the clothes and gear that are packed away in another state. My deactivated Instagram account. None of these boxes own our soft flesh.
We know this is not the norm. Americans are spending more time at home. Meanwhile, the online world is subsuming reality. The sense of dread and ‘can’t look away’ instincts make our phones more an extension of our being than a tool.
As for me, I appear missing. I do not need a device to tell me what the desert exposes from its raw core. The empty nests and shells are a symbol not to retreat, but to step out of our comfort zones. This includes remembering who we are. That there are other ways to care and make a difference than chronic online-ness. Nature tells stories about climate change and social injustice too. Perhaps that is why people are reluctant to turn away from their screens. It is hard to face the truth.
Graciously and beautifully said. So glad I found this post. Yes the eyes are the best camera to be able to stay present.
Well said. Your survival instincts of stepping into nature is a better way to discover truths than is cruising the internet where the more apocalyptic the more grabbing the “news.”
I was in Barrow Alaska when Al Gore’s movie was showing a cartoon of a forlorn bear sitting a shrinking iceberg. When leaving the trailer hut we were instructed to look out of the 6 inch diameter reinforced portal for polar bear. There was gun in the rack for when bear was present. Crack the door open fire the rifle to scare away bear. The bear population was rising and bear people encounters were increasing. Ursinus marinus is the strongest swimming land-borne mammal in the world. Polars in Churchill were living just fine without icebergs.
The climate is changing for the worst. Saying that if “trends” continue there will be hell-in-a-hand-basket is not helpful because nature is more cyclical, adaptive, than linear (unlike models that generalize or researchers in need of funding).
Better to step into nature and consult your nearest ecosystem as to what to do. Keep your eye on the sparrow.