I’m currently in the middle of the desert, practicing what they call "desert bathing." It’s based on the Japanese practice of Shinrin-yoku, or "forest bathing"—the art of truly examining the five senses in nature. As the guide led us through these beautiful stops, my mind started doing what it does best: it went on a tangent.
I started thinking to myself: *How are things named? Who decided this?*
I know, I’m on a tangent again. But that’s what happens on a meditative walk. One moment you’re in the heart of the desert, and the next, you’re in a forest sitting on a rock. The whole experience so far has been fucking amazing, but I can't stop wondering: who got the right to call something what it is? Who decided a rock is a "rock"? Who decided a tree is a "tree"? We saw this little plant called a Foxtail—who the hell named it that?
Sometimes, it’s good to ask questions like that. It gets the mind working, and we always want the mind working.
We are surrounded by all this beauty, all this nature, and then some dumb fuck puts a bench in the middle of it. We don’t need no stinking benches, *cabrón*. It’s amazing to realize that we’re standing on sand right now, but at the right time, that sand becomes a creek. I guess that’s what happens when it’s 100 degrees out here.
Eventually, we came across a cactus that had fallen over and broken into pieces. I’ve never seen a cactus fallen over like that. Looking at the root in the ground, it was brown and solid, just like a tree. It was a reminder of how our roots always remain. No matter what life throws at us, we have to stay rooted. We have to stay grounded. We have to stay strong from the bottom up. It’s that fundamental yoga concept.
It’s also a lesson in never judging a book by its cover. When you think of the desert, you think of nothing but sand and cactus, but we found forest areas and tons of vegetation—stuff that looks like it belongs in the Midwest. I signed on for a desert walk, but I got so much more because I kept an open mind.
At one point, a fallen tree blocked our path. We had to navigate a big pile of wobbly rocks. If we weren't careful, we could have really fucked ourselves up. It gave me pause. I looked at those fallen trees and thought about our lives. We go through distress, and trees fall down in our path, but we can keep moving. No matter how many trees fall or how many rocks we have to balance on, if we take things slow, we can move forward.
I came back to Civana to ground myself and get back to where I need to be. I’m looking forward to these next few days as a time to rebuild, reframe, and find that inner strength. I’m searching for the joy and peace I’ve always held onto—learning how to be a better man, especially for my family.
I’m doing my absolute best. One day at a time.
NMF
M
