A walk

	I took a walk along a point that sticks out into the waves recently. Starting the walk, I realized that I don’t necessarily plan what I’m doing moment to moment but I continue to find myself outside when I have nothing pressing on my time. 
	Greeting someone on the trail can be a little weird. Do I say “Hi”? Do I leave them alone? I didn’t go out into nature to hang out with other people and they probably didn’t either but here we are. It would be more weird to ignore each other, right? After saying “Hi” to a couple people, I decided to give a good “Hi!” to everyone. Reminded me of my friend Mark. He was enthusiastic and generally way friendlier with people than I am. I gave a good “Hi!” to the next guy. Not a great response but I continued on with a huge smile thinking about Mark and this whole conversation going on in my head.
	As I was walking, it occurred to me how being in the presence and awe of the real world can snap you out of your normal mental programming. On a curve of the trail, I came upon a wide open view of the shore and the ocean. Not a cliff, just a little drop off but I was still elevated a bit above the shore so I had that advantage built into my point of view. The wind was hitting me in the face. The brightness of the Sun through the clouds aimed at me. The ocean and its waves and that power coming right at me. That’s a smack to the mind. Even the volume as the waves crashed on the shore. It made the conversation in my head stop. 
	Then there was the little deer that I surprised around another corner. It didn’t seem to mind that I was there even though we were just a few feet away from each other.
	The end of the point is all rocky. About halfway out in this pile of rocks, is a large horizontal flat rock. Like a table or an altar. I like to sit on it facing the end of the point with my back to the trail. On this day, I meditated there. I usually meditate with my eyes closed but tried it with my eyes open looking out to the water and the waves crashing into the rocks that make up this point of land.	I was struck by the difference between meditating with eyes open versus closed. I can understand how eyes open could be easier but for me it was not. Having your eyes open, focusing your vision on something can be a way to stop your mind’s constant spinning and turn down the volume on the ever going internal dialogue. But, for me, all the sights my eyes were feeding me were more stimulation. 
	Just sitting outside in one spot for more than a brief moment is its own thing though. When did I stop doing that? I saw things that I would have missed while walking. The sitting was an enjoyable contrast to the walking. 
	And all those rocks at the end. As a kid, I lived close to a river with a rocky coast. We would run along the edge of the river, hopping from rock to rock. We weren’t worried about falling, we were kids having fun at high speed. (I have no memory of any of us ever falling.) Finding my way along the point, from rock to rock, I was still doing the same thing as an older man that I’d done as a kid. That amused me. 
	As I made my way back from the end of the point, to the parking lot, this time along the other side of the point, I continued to think about the little game of saying “Hi” to people that I was playing. Generally, I’m not a super friendly person but I decided that saying “Hi” to all the people I passed on the trail was a value add. It brought a smile to my face. I don’t always even like people that much. I’m content to be alone but there are people everywhere. There’s so many more people on the planet now than there were when I was a kid. It’s not easy to get away from other people. So, if people are going to be everywhere, the answer that came to me is to lean into it. I might as well try to make these people that I cross paths with part of the fun. 
	Seeing how people reacted to me was fun too. A lot of people didn’t seem excited by me greeting them as we approached and passed each other on the trail. But there were some people who were really happy. Either way, I just kept on smiling. It made me think of some saying or story I’d heard about not being afraid to be perceived as a fool. Almost like the idea of those who know, know. I would rather be seen as a smiling fool than a brooding stranger. 
	And I would rather be moving outside than sitting inside. I’d rather my inputs be cold wind in my face and Sun in my eyes while I’m surrounded by wildness than the stimulation of a scrolling screen. I have become bored by the screens and I know they’re not real. The exchange between the waves and the land on the shoreline or the sight of trees grasping the Earth on one end while reaching into the sky on the other, those are real. When I give my time to those things, I don’t feel like it was time wasted.