Transformative Power of the Great Outdoors

Spending an entire weekend outdoors in 28 degree weather. Sleeping on the cold, hard ground with seven layers of clothing and somehow it’s still not enough to keep you warm. Outside the tent, you can see nothing but thick blackness but you know you’re surrounded by gorgeous scenery, a star filled sky and you can hear waves crashing onto a beach nearby. Shivering your ass off, breathing frozen air while you try to sleep. Moving and walking during the day to stay warm. The hiking trails reveal breathtakingly beautiful waterfalls and soaring cliff-side views. A sea of trees changing colors as autumn hangs on for dear life below you. Then you remember, you must make it back to your frozen campsite before dark.

This is how I passed my last weekend on shore of Lake Superior in northern Minnesota. Some might say the experience was miserable and the suffering was unnecessary. No way to spend a “vacation.” But I think experiencing this kind of suffering helps to keep me sane. This kind of extreme beauty deeply satisfies my soul.

From the moment I stepped into the campsite and started pitching my tent, cold began to overtake my senses. I suddenly stopped caring about the mundane stress that I thought was crushing me. I was focused on staying warm enough to survive the night, real survival. Not “this deadline won’t be met and this email needs to be answered. Suddenly everything else seems small and unimportant.

Now that I’m back in 70 degree indoor spaces, I feel a deep sense of gratitude for modern comforts. The thermostat magically obeys whatever temperature I tell it! There is no wind cutting against my face and I don’t have to build a fire every time I want a warm meal. Nothing changes your perspective more than prolonged discomfort and a focus on survival in harsh conditions.

I gained a deep sense of awe and wonder at the beautiful, open, outdoor spaces in northern Minnesota. And as I pick up my daily tasks, I am met with a new sense of calm. This stuff isn’t as serious as I thought. I can breathe more deeply and take myself a little less seriously. And that makes all the difference.