It seems simple, right? Go outside and you’ll feel better. But what happens when stress, anxiety, or a busy schedule is just too much? Even though you physically move outside, you just can’t connect or appreciate what is happening around you? You may have moved your body away from your to-do list, the breaking news of the day, the problems you are trying to solve, but they travel with you in your head. 

It is in these moments of overwhelm, when the big things seem intangible, that it can be helpful to connect with something tangible. By paying attention to the things we see, hear, feel, smell, and taste we can ground ourselves. Tuning in with the senses can be done anywhere. In fact, I think I was first guided through this practice lying down inside a yoga studio. But the outside world is a venue for a sensory-rich experience.  

To practice this, I leave the office and walk to the Blue Heron Overlook where I know there is shade, a seat, and a good view. While most of our information comes to us through our sense of sight, sounds are what grabs my attention first. I can hear the dull roar of traffic from the highway. At first, I wish it wasn’t there but try to let it go and choose to turn my attention to other things. 

In the heat of the afternoon, Green Frogs are calling. There must be over two dozen in the water around me. Their rubbery pluck comes from the right and left, reminding me of the hearing tests I took as a kid. Donning large headphones, I remember being directed to raise the appropriate hand when I heard beep in my right or left ear. 

Photo by Katie Finch   A view of Big Pond in summer.

It’s the same with the Red-wing Blackbirds’ nasal calls. Some are loud because they are close. Others I hear calling across the expanse of wetland. There’s a musical bird song that I don’t even try to identify because I don’t feel like allowing my brain to work in that way. I just want to listen. The insistent, high-pitched jackhammer call of a Swamp Sparrow fills the space. On a nearby branch, it tips its head back and opens its mouth for every song.

I close my eyes and when I open them large chunks of green, blue, brown, and white are what I take in. But after a few minutes of seeing and differentiating color, there’s more. The clouds are more than just white. They are blue and gray and maybe yellowish. And have you ever noticed how many different shades of green there are?  

If I blur my eyes a little, it’s easier to see shapes. The vertical lines of the trees across the pond stand out as a repeated pattern. The pattern is repeated in the tall grasses of the pond. And the dead tree to the right curves in just the same shape as the body of a Great Blue Heron poised, waiting for a fish. 

There are accents of other colors, including the yellow undersides of Spatterdock Lily, the flash of red on the blackbird’s wings, and the pink of the Swamp Rose blooms. In fact, when the breeze blows, I can smell their scent.  

Breathing deep, my focus turns inward. I feel the warm wind on my face and arms. And I am reminded that I am a part of the natural world too. I breathe, and sing, and like to bask in the sun just as the birds and frogs do. And the air that fills my lungs is the byproduct of plants’ remarkable process to feed themselves.   

I think this is what is meant by being mindful. To not let things go by without your attention. To acknowledge they are there. Maybe notice their details. Their presence doesn’t need your opinion, or even your knowledge of their name - at least not in every moment. Just noticing is enough sometimes.   

As naturally as the plants around me transform water and sun into sugar, my noticing brings forth gratitude. Gratitude that I can take a few minutes outside, that the sun is shining, and that others also use and appreciate this place too. And that they not only thought of conserving this piece of land but that so many people worked to do so.   

This practice of paying attention doesn’t change any challenges ahead of me. But it brings a slightly different person back to face them. And it is with a little more peace and a little lighter heart that I return to the office to continue the work of the people who were here before me. And on my walk back I silently remind myself to do this again.    

Audubon Community Nature Center builds and nurtures connections between people and nature. ACNC is located just east of Route 62 between Warren and Jamestown. The trails are open from dawn to dusk and birds of prey can be viewed anytime the trails are open. The Nature Center is open from 10 a.m. until 4:30 p.m. daily except Sunday when it opens at 1 p.m. More information can be found online at auduboncnc.org or by calling (716) 569-2345.