A Morning of Mindful Observation

The weather that Saturday morning wasn’t promising. A chilly wind hinted that fall was just around the corner. As I arrived at the park, leaves floated gently to the ground—a quiet reminder of the changing season.

I had never been to this park before. It was a beautiful expanse of greenery, with preserved areas full of native trees. The kind of setting that naturally quiets the mind and opens the senses.

I was there for a workshop focused on amplifying our perception of the outdoors—a topic that, if you’ve followed my journey, you know resonates deeply with me.

The invitation was to search the ground for the tiniest elements of nature we could find. At first, the task felt daunting. How often do we truly pause and look closely at what's beneath our feet? But the more I focused my attention, the more was revealed. Life appeared in unexpected places—decomposing leaves, pieces of bark, seeds, raindrops resting on plants and blades of grass, bugs, spiders, and ants going about their quiet work.

This simple exercise brought with it a quiet yet profound reflection: the delicacy of life, and how small we are in comparison to the grandeur of nature. Towering trees, vast skies, ancient stones—they remind us that we are just a part of a much bigger, beautifully interconnected world.

That morning was more than just a walk in the park. It was an invitation to notice, to wonder, and to reconnect—with nature and with myself.