More than a week ago my husband and I hit the road. In under three hours behind the wheel, we exchanged our busy, commitment-rattled lives for a slower pace—the surge of a Northern Arizona canyon creek our white noise for a full week. He fished. I wrote. We hiked. A lot. We practiced yoga each morning in front of our cabin’s picture window—the view, beyond, a veritable canopy of leaves and needles and bark. Dappled sunlight. Two bird houses swaying in the gentle breeze. We played games; cooked hearty meals in our compact kitchen; ventured into town on a whim. Read books. Took walks at dusk. Slept with the windows opened and woke without alarms. We savored thunderstorms that rolled through the canyon and cooled the air with rich, earthy scents. And I was reminded that healing takes place when we feed ourselves good stuff. Sometimes all it requires is an open road and a date with Mother Nature.
How do you feed yourself good stuff?
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