Wanderlust in the Time of Coronavirus (A GeoEx eBook)

Wanderlust in the Time of Coronavirus

Ten Silver-Lining Lessons of 2020

3. Life is More Rewarding in the Slow Lane A corollary lesson I re-learned was the importance of slowing down and paying attention. I’m normally reminded of this truth every spring, when I contemplate the edifying arrangement of rocks, pebbles, and moss at the Ryoanji temple rock garden in Kyoto. This year I learned it simply sitting at my desk, savoring the way the sun stippled the spring-green leaves outside my window, the soul-soothing heat and aroma of a good cup of tea, and the richness of the artifacts—a miniature moai from Easter Island, a pottery plate from Crete, a woodblock print of Mount Fuji—that surrounded me. My mantra became, “Slow down, slow down; pay deep attention to the details all around.” The more closely I looked, listened, smelled, tasted, and touched, the more keenly I enjoyed and appreciated, and the more rewarding every moment became. Before long, this led to a new truth: Approach the everyday with the attentiveness of a sacred place, and soon the entire world takes on a special grace. 4. Nature Has the Power to Heal Another corollary lesson was the quintessential power of nature to ground and restore, both physically and mentally. I felt this especially at Stinson Beach, in Muir Woods, and on the Point Reyes Peninsula. When the world became too much with me, as it often did during this topsy-turvy year, I learned that leaving the news behind and losing myself to ocean, beach, and tree, bestowed serenity, sanctity, and a touch of eternity. These immersions in nature became my own healing go-to: shinrin- yoku forest bathing and hama-yoku , beach bathing, too. 5. Wanderlust Abides Without and Within On this year’s long and winding road, I discovered that local travels can propel us around the globe. In April, an impromptu quest to see the fragile pink cherry blossoms in my local park

it is profoundly moving to witness the unifyingly brave and selfless acts of medical workers and first responders around the globe, and the desperate efforts of researchers working around the world and around the clock towards the creation of a cure. “ This passage, which feels like something out of a history textbook now, nine months later, was my first articulation of this intricate, ineluctable interconnectedness. Through the months, my sense of it and its import has deepened and expanded as we have seen just how profoundly, and similarly, the virus has disrupted virtually every facet of everyday life around the globe, from filling hospitals to restricting travel to making remote work the norm. “We are all in this together” has taken on a new meaning that underscores both the peril and the promise of our latticed global home. 2. Treasures Abound in Our Own Backyard Not being able to wander the wide world initially propelled me to explore my literal backyard. As I wrote in that March 18 essay, “I’m communing with the yellow freesia that have just begun to bloom, exulting in the buds on the persimmon tree’s boughs, urging the birds of paradise to take orange- winged flight. I’m approaching home as if it were a new and exhilarating place and feeling some of the same wonder-frisson that I normally feel only on the road.” Soon these travels expanded to my neighborhood and then, gradually, to the iconic attractions of the Bay Area, places that in a normal year would be crowded with visitors from around the globe. I spent a glorious day at Stinson Beach, walked across the Golden Gate Bridge, hiked into the heart of Muir Woods, and lost and found myself in Point Reyes. It was enlightening to discover how many special places are within day-trip distance of my home, how there are world-class wonders all around us; we just need to adjust our minds to see them.

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