The cashiers at my local Rite Aid typically welcome people when folks come into the door. Often, that leads to customers saying back, “How ya doing?” And this one Rite Aid employee often says, “Living the dream!” And it makes people laugh every time.
This isn’t said with a deflated tone but with a silly, connectional one. She’s really connectional generally. She and I have joked around a number of times.
This small thing really invites people into more conversation, and I’ve both received it and watched people have more conversation with her afterward. It turns into a relational moment between people, not a transactional one. And I admire that.
Last week, I wrote about a community of folks who have been holding signs in Chelsea, Michigan every Sunday for more than two years. I titled that post, “Week 130,” because that’s how long they’ve been there.
After my beloved, 25 year old car died last spring, I bought a new car, who I also adore. Her name is Frannie. Yesterday, I got to drive by this lovely community once more, and Frannie got to honk for the first time. Baby’s first honk.
Image Description: A photo of branches and leaves with a ‘hole’ (a space) that shows the Huron River beyond. Photo by me, Renee Roederer.
If you’ve been following this blog for a while, or if you follow me on Facebook, you know that I’m an avid nature photographer. I make it a personal habit to get outside daily and take photos of nature. Sometimes, people compliment the beauty of the work, and then I’ll say, “Well, I can’t take much credit for that. It’s just beautiful subject matter.” This is of course, exactly true.
But then they’ll add, “It’s not just that. You’ve got an eye for this.”
Recently, my Mom said this to me, but she added something. “You get this from your Dad.”
And I started thinking about that, and of course, that’s true. And I’m not sure why I had never thought of this myself. My Dad was an amateur photographer like me, and particularly, when I was very young, he took photos of nature.
I can be honest here: My Dad died years ago, and my relationship with him was often very conflicted. In the midst of that, it gives me a lot of pleasure now to recognize this particular connection with him. I had not thought of it, but there’s actually a pretty straight line here. And this practice which gives me meaning, connection, and beauty every single day has an obvious, redemptive strand of our own connection within it. Thanks, Dad.
A photo from the forest floor, looking up toward the canopy of trees. Photo by me, Renee Roederer.
In the 1980s, people in Japan began using the term “forest bathing.” It wasn’t just a term but a practice. As people sought to get away from technology and the heart of cities, they would take mindful walks in forests to impact their health and emotional wellbeing.
Yesterday, I took some time to do that. I walked around for a good while in the Scio Woods Preserve, and it felt nourishing to be there. Though fall colors have started where I live, this forest was mainly still green. In fact, there was an abundance of green. I was surrounded by color, oxygen production, and the sounds of birds and rustling animals.
I also found myself thinking about the overwhelming amount of connections in that forest. Some, I could see, but beneath my feet, lie root systems of trees caring for one another. And did you know that every time we take a step, we have about 300 miles of mycelium stretching below the surface? Mycelium are the highly connective, thread-like strands of fungi that help plants communicate and spread nutrients. They transform the ecosystem.
Maybe sometimes, we need to get away, not only from technology and cities, but a sense that we are isolated, dissociated, or disconnected. Maybe we need to be in a place where connections naturally abound, reminding us that that is the true nature and order to things.
Two feet wearing denim shoes with white soles, walking away on a gravel road. Public domain image.
On last night’s walk, I was traveling alongside the left side of the road, and someone was walking that same side of the road but traveling in the opposite direction. The road bent just a little bit, and when I turned the corner, she did at the same time, and now we were wandering aimlessly toward each other. It was one of those, “Do you want to dance?” moments.
We caught sight each other well before we would have collided, or for that matter, danced. But this situation just cracked this woman up. She thought it was so funny. And her disproportionate laugh the moment made me start laughing too.
This wasn’t a major moment of my day or even the funniest thing that happened yesterday. It was a little laughing moment that snapped me out of being in a foggy funk. And I thought, we really need these silly surprises, don’t we?
While taking a walk, I saw that my neighbors have a fun, cute little set of shelves called the “Little Free Native Swap.” (Pictured above) It says, “Take a treasure… leave a treasure!” So there are fun seeds, twigs, leaves, and shells from the beach. People are changing them out bit by bit.
This made me smile so much. I’m going to have to make a swapperoo soon.
A friend and I were walking to lunch in Chelsea, Michigan when we saw people holding signs on all the street corners of the main intersection in town. “Chelsea Welcomes Everybody,” one sign read, as they also held anti-racist signs and LGBTQIA+ flags.
“Thank you for being out here,” I said to one of the folks. I’ve been aware that they come out here every single Sunday. They get some resistance occasionally, but mostly, they receive honks from people driving by. This becomes an occasion to quell violence and stand for values that promote inclusion and affirmation.
“This is week 130,” she said back to me. I smiled and thanked her again. I’m very moved by what they’re doing.
This group of people, mostly white Boomers, began doing more than two years ago this when young people in Chelsea held an anti-racism protest and were arrested. “We’re not letting that happen to them again,” she said.
What a beautiful expression of affirmation and support.