More time

A couple weeks ago I took the dog on a long walk through the bike trail near our home.

The world was dark, chilly and quiet as we started out in the street lamp glow. We watched the sun peak over the horizon, and the sky morph from black to gray to purple to orange to a brilliant blue.

Or at least I did. I can’t be sure what the dog saw except every single rabbit and squirrel on the path.

Later in the same week, on another beautiful day, I traveled to mid-Missouri for work. The trees — golden, orange and red were striking against the blue sky. I wanted to be outside, but I was trapped in a car and then a conference room. We’re granted very few perfect days in a year, in a lifetime, and that day was one of them. You have to grab those days and hang on tight…..or they’ll slip through your fingers like sand.

I’ve always loved being outside, although I didn’t quite realize it until adulthood. My childhood is full of memories playing outside with the neighborhood kids — bare feet on soft grass in the summer, jackets and rosy cheeks in the fall, and bundled up snow ball fights in the winter. It really hasn’t been until the last few years though that I’ve realized how much time in nature fuels my soul, and how much physical activity outdoors helps me manage stress and feel more grounded.

I’ve felt a huge pull to be in nature since my dad got sick. Shortly after I learned of his diagnosis, I planned a trip to the Pacific Northwest and invited my parents to come. I try to explore different trails and parks in KC as often as possible, and if nothing else enjoy the Indian Creek trail by my house.

But the days keep passing me by. October is my favorite month, and now it’s over. I had so many grand nature adventure plans, and I think I played outside twice — one of those times being the long walk with my dog (poor thing hardly gets walks anymore). The whole month slipped through my fingers.

I’m not even really sure what happened….life I guess. Travels and toddler naps, time with family, work, deadlines and laundry. The fast pace of American life. The daily grind.

It’s becoming devastatingly real to me how precious and swift life is. How rare a perfect day. How limited our moments.

It’s all going so fast. Too terribly fast.

I need more time.