These days the deliberation about the future of our country is heated and there is a certain anthropocentrism and lack of humility in which we humans interact and think about our world. I learned once again from nature how to keep my preoccupation with family, work, and politics in perspective. It was the kind of fall day that you never want to end.
Clear blue skies and a gentle breeze made the yellow cottonwood leaves dance as they fell to the forest floor. My partner Natalie and I launched our canoe for a six-mile paddle on the Blackfoot River. I was excited about the trip because it would distract me from the stressors in my life.
The water was like glass and in the depths of the river's blue, sandy pools we could see large schools of rocky mountain whitefish swimming effortlessly under the shadow of our canoe. Canoeing is a beautiful and reflective pastime. It allows one to forget human concerns and focus on nature: Sunlight shining on water dripping off a paddle; the river gurgling and singing as it courses downstream; and the smell of the damp earth and willows that grow along the banks and provide food and homes for wildlife.
There is something mesmerizing, soothing, and ancient about the way one's body moves when canoeing, not against, but with the energy of the river and the paddle. It is therapy without words, a couch, or the need for anyone to affirm your feelings. Time takes on a new meaning, guided not by deadlines or accomplishments, but rather by the possibilit.
