Something good is going to happen today, and I am going to notice it and appreciate it. That was my mantra as I traveled to the Wetland Initiative’s Dixon Waterfowl Refuge in north central Illinois. My goal was to witness the smallest and most fleeting or inconsequential thing that brings me a sense of well-being. I was going tiny and questioning the need to see birds like eagles and sandhill cranes to consider a trip worthwhile. An insect on a flower, a dried seed pod, the ripples in the creekbed, or the sound of the wind should be enough.
I set out to practice being grateful. Since we become what we focus on, I decided to be as open and thankful as possible. This may sound quaint and easy, but it is one of life's grand challenges. We all possess a potent internal critic, a negative voice in our heads that is biologically driven and culturally reinforced. For many people, this voice drives them and shapes who they are. That was certainly the case for me for most of my life. I listened to the negative voice in my head and generally lived in accordance with what a man is expected to do. That meant suppressing my emotions and being around a lot of gunfire and internal combustion engines. All that noise led to me developing tinnitus, a ringing sound in my head. This serves as a constant reminder of the need to take care of ourselves, listen to our bodies, and not push things too far.
I want to stop viewing life as an endless list of tasks, obligations, and striving for power and more as a mystery to be lived.
What I should put in the place of an ethic in the old sense is encouragement and opportunity for all the impulses that are creative and expansive. I should do everything possible to liberate men from fear, not only conscious fears, but the old imprisoned primeval terrors that we brought with us out of the jungle. I should make it clear, not merely as an intellectual proposition, but as something that the heart spontaneously believes, that it is not by making others suffer that we shall achieve our own happiness, but that happiness and the means to happiness depend upon harmony with other men. When all this is not only understood but deeply felt, it will be easy to live in a way that brings happiness equally to ourselves and to others. If men could think and feel in this way, not only their personal problems, but all the problems of world politics, even the most abstruse and difficult, would melt away. Suddenly, as when the mist dissolves from a mountaintop, the landscape would be visible and the way would be clear. It is only necessary to open the doors of our hearts and minds to let the imprisoned demons escape and the beauty of the world take possession.
Bertrand Russell
I am replacing lists of birds with a desire to feel things long covered up. I want to be entangled with life and to exalt it. I left my binoculars in the car. I am becoming less interested in seeing rare birds. Especially now that an increasing number of them wander far and wide due to climate change. I want to spend more time appreciating the sights, sounds, smells, plants, and wildlife around me.
I have been down this trail before, but each walk is a chance to experience it anew. Rather than travel to see new places, I am out to see a familiar place with new sets of eyes. A continually refreshed perspective, a beginner’s mind.
The smell of the prairie was the first thing I noticed. You only get this smell in a large prairie at certain times of the year. The aroma is reminiscent of cut hay with something extra added, and it brings back fond memories of my previous work as a Land Steward for The Nature Conservancy.
The trail through the sandy prairie traverses rolling land, and on the downslope, I am reminded of why I like this refuge so much. Unlike most natural areas near me, which use gravel, coarse rocks, or even worse, chunks of concrete and pieces of broken-up bricks and blocks, the Wetland Initiative chose to use smooth river rock to stabilize this section of the road. This makes it look like an old creek bed. This aesthetic sensibility permeates the refuge. They care about how it looks. This improves the quality of my experience and generates much gratitude.
Down by the creek near the wooden footbridge that gracefully arcs over the water, I realized I was shrouded in mist. Although I cannot see it close at hand, a narrow band of mist snakes across the prairie as I look off into the distance. It appears dense at a distance but vanishes up close.
I crossed the creek and walked up a rise into an open oak savanna where prairie grass sways in a breeze that flows around mature oaks and hickories. I noticed a beautiful Cream Gentian in full bloom. I also noticed piles of ash on the road and realized that this area looked different. A crew worked here in the summer to remove honeysuckle and other invasive plants, and the area is now covered with native savanna vegetation. Every time I come here, there are fewer exotic and more native plants. This provides a deep sense of psychic relief and makes me hopeful.
A tangle of grape vines sprawls out along the side of the trail, cascading over a downed oak tree. A Ruby-throated Hummingbird is zipping around the leaves. I move in a little closer and watch as she bathes by rubbing herself up against the leaves to absorb the thin layer of dew that had accumulated overnight. Her intense energy seems to vibrate water off of the leaf, and her wings fling it into the air in a shower of tiny droplets. She careens through the leaves, bouncing off of them like a pinball. There are brief moments where she looks like a tiny dog, the way she turns her head sideways and rubs it on the leaf. She rests on the leaf like a little iridescent sponge soaking up the water. I feel lucky to have witnessed this intimate behavior. There is something very calming about seeing a content hummingbird at rest.
From here, the trail cuts through a sweeping mesic prairie on its way to a seep and the main wetland in the refuge. I now have a vision of deer gracefully leaping through the six-foot-tall prairie plants. I see them on most of my walks here, but I have not been able to capture a photo that shows this aspect of their power and grace.
On this stretch, I appreciate the subtlety of the prairie, the buzzing of bees, and the songs of Henslow’s Sparrows, American Goldfinches, and Common Yellowthroats. My gaze eventually settles on the graceful form of a large hackberry tree at the edge of the woods. The shapely tree appears to be dancing in the morning light.
I greet the hackberry as I walk by on the trail down to the seep, where clear water bubbles out of the ground and flows in tiny rivulets that feed into the marsh. This seep has resisted all attempts to drain it over the centuries, and it still harbors a diverse community of native plants, including a huge patch of Obedient Plants. I stop to take pictures, and I hear the buzzing of a hummingbird. He has perched right above my head on a bare branch as if to say, “Get back, this is my patch of flowers.”
I loop through the seep and make my way back up to the prairie. On my way, I hear the familiar sound of a deer bounding away through the savanna. I look up to see a doe standing near the top of the ridge, looking down at me. She is curious and only mildly alarmed. I can see that her tail is flared but not raised. She lifts her front leg as if to stamp the ground but does not follow through. She stops and stares, backlit by the rising sun. I can see her large dark eyes, swiveling ears, spiderwebs on her cheek, velcro plant seeds sticking to her fur, and whiskers shining in the sun. She is an absolute marvel of evolution, worthy of deep appreciation.
The trail curves around and traverses the edge of the prairie where prescribed fires have cleansed the land. The boundary between the savanna and the prairie is open here. Refuge staff and prescribed fire have removed the invasive shrubs that typically choke these areas, and the views are spectacular. A mixed flock of chickadees, warblers, vireos, and flycatchers are foraging in the soft morning light.
I pause to take in this scene, but my mind has other plans, and it stages a revolt. All this gratitude has provoked a response from the negative voice in my head, and a wave of critical thoughts emerged. My insecurities, health problems, and pessimism rise in my consciousness and parade before me. I watch them come and go. They are a familiar litany.
The experience is unsettling, and this prompts me to ask: am I going to be okay?
I lifted my gaze from the ground, and I noticed an Eastern Wood-Pewee flying toward me. He passed by in a blur of brown wings with a subtle whoosh as he veered off to my right and hovered at eye level six feet away. I could hear the wind rushing through his wings. He hung in the air, focused on the prairie plants before him, and snatched a moth from a Compass Plant with an audible snap. He quickly pivoted 180 degrees and flew up to perch on the top of a dead tree, where he knocked the wings off the moth and swallowed it.
The pewee just showed me how to be. He showed me that you can find sources of well-being all around you. You just have to be curious, alert, and open to receive them.
I focused on the pewee and let the negative thoughts fade into the background. He is much more intriguing, sitting there basking in the sun, perched on a huge Bur Oak scanning for insects. He seems content. The air is full of insects; it is like an all-you-can-eat buffet.
Evolution has bestowed upon us a negativity bias that makes negative thoughts much more likely to resonate and lodge in our brains. This is useful for survival up to a point, but it is not good for intimacy, personal relationships, or our general well-being.
Focusing on gratitude requires real effort. It is like driving down a rutted dirt road. You try to keep your tires on the high ground, but they quickly fall back into the ruts. The slick mud and deep ruts conspire to pull you in. Fortunately, the more time you spend on the high ground, the easier it gets to stay there.
You can create your own path on the high ground by intentionally choosing gratitude and positive thoughts. We become what we focus on. When you stick to the high road, you create new neural pathways in your brain. The challenge is to focus on the positive for 30 seconds or more so it can sink in; each experience helps you stick to the high road, but only if you focus on it. Our mind likes to wander, so this task requires dedication and constant effort. The benefit is that over time, you can be grateful in any situation.
While I am doling out gratitude, I also want to share that I am deeply grateful for Substack and the community it has created. I have found Substack to be a wonderful place to learn and meet other like-minded people. As I put more of my time and energy into Substack, I am also spending less and less time on Facebook and Instagram. They are fading from my life. My primary use of Instagram now is sharing funny cat videos with my kids.
Take a few minutes each day and stop and focus on being grateful. Write down three things you are thankful for. Tell a person close to you why you appreciate them. Tell others what you appreciate about something you love to do.
Happiness can not be found
through great effort and willpower,
but is already present,
in open relaxation and letting go.
Don't strain yourself,
there is nothing to do or undo.
Whatever momentarily arises
in the body-mind
has no real importance at all,
has little reality whatsoever.
Why identify with,
and become attached to it,
passing judgment upon it and ourselves?
Far better to simply
let the entire game happen on its own,
springing up and falling back like waves
without changing or manipulating anything
and notice how everything vanishes and reappears, magically,
again and again, time without end.
Only our searching for happiness
prevents us from seeing it.
It's like a vivid rainbow which you pursue
without ever catching,
or a dog chasing its own tail.
Although peace and happiness
do not exist as an actual thing or place,
it is always available
and accompanies you every instant.
Don't believe in the reality of good and bad experiences;
they are like today's ephemeral weather,
like rainbows in the sky.
Wanting to grasp the ungraspable,
you exhaust yourself in vain.
As soon as you open and relax
this tight fist of grasping,
infinite space is there -
open, inviting and comfortable.
Lama Gendun Rinpoche
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My life has been immeasurable enriched by the wisdom Tara Brach shares on her podcast and through her books. Her two recent podcasts on Rewiring for Happiness are particularly insightful and helpful.
I post my daily gratitude journal on Facebook every day. Three things, usually small, sometimes huge things I notice and appreciate. I started the journal because I found myself sinking into depression. Your newsletter is something I am grateful for and look forward to. Your thoughts are deep, your photos wonderful, your writing full of grace. Thank you so much.
A deep bow of gratitude to you for these wise musings. As I continue on this earth walk, I learn how much there is to gain from the simple delights around me. Holding space for the rebalancing of any health concerns you’re facing.