Inquisitive Adventures

Miles 2–3

The warmth of the humidity hovers over my skin like a comforting sheet. The rough texture of our porch’s reclaimed wood grounds my feet. I sit on our outdoor couch as rain pours, hitting the wood, causing a swirl of mist to spray rhythmically around me, softly hitting my skin. Thunder plays its song as the beats of its vibration hit my chest, anchoring me to the moment. No phone. Just the warmth of smooth ceramic between my hands, filled with coffee. A cool breeze flows through the porch, saying goodbye to humidity’s warmth. In this moment, I learned God was teaching me to notice the world around me. The art of not being taken away by the cares of this world or illuminated glass.

I hear squawking and find myself back in the moment. I am walking the path. Curious, I look to my right to see two birds flying through the air, arguing with each other, chasing a petrified insect. One of the black-and-brown birds catches it. The victorious bird perches on a plant, gloating. The other flies around frustrated. I smile, watching them for a moment. I remember sitting on the porch a few weeks ago that inspired me to go on this journey, challenging myself to be present and notice the world around me. No headphones. How distracted both our world and minds have become. Instead of listening to the world around us, we have started filling ourselves with endless thirty-second clips and images that, in the end, lead us disconnected from ourselves and the world around us. Taking in more information, opinions, and perceptions than we were ever intended to consume.

The realization hits me. If I brought my headphones, I never would have heard the argument of the birds. I wonder if I would have noticed the many animal tracks I found or if I would have walked past the flowers and bison. As I stand and watch, I am reminded of Matthew 6:25–27:

“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?”

I continue my walk pondering if I will ever see the bison. The last few times I have walked this path, I could not find them. I begin to wonder if they exist. Maybe it’s a conspiracy. I turn the bend of the path, and there, right by the fence, are the bison. One looks at me and stares. As if it knows my thoughts.

I think back to our distracted world and how there is an art to noticing. How loud the storms of life can be. How different the world would be if we permitted ourselves time to notice the present life before us. Savoring its beauty. How many would walk by missing the birds and the bison. How quickly time passes by us if we allow all the noise to keep us distracted.