Temps of 105 degrees couldn’t keep me and my un-pedicured toes away.

Eons ago, during a particularly stressful period of my life, an old friend quipped that I needed to head out for “rock time.”  In his estimation, I needed to find a big ole rock to perch upon as I pondered my way out of my predicament. (Like how to avoid unintended alliteration?) He was right. And, today, I embrace the practice.

Writing is a prickly endeavor. Despite all good intentions, sometimes I stare at the screen or page, determined to will the words into the right order, only to find that there’s too much noise in my head. You know what I mean. Kids, guilt, laundry, bills, buried hurts, to-do-lists, wishes, worries, inner-editors, self-doubt, isolation. The list goes on. A bombardment of such mental din can be deafening. For me, that’s when I know it’s time to head outdoors.

I walk, bike, kayak, or head to the many trail options in my area, knowing I’ll get sweaty, and dirty, and just plain tuckered out. Sometimes, I even go home to the ranch where I grew up. Surrounded by horses and space, my blood pressure drops and the volume of internal noise is extinguished. Away from my daily routine, my senses awaken. I can breathe, hear my heart beat, and soak in the natural wonders that fuel me. Miraculously, by the time I return to the page, that mental chatter has been compartmentalized and my focus returns.

Whether you feel stuck or distracted, I encourage you to give it a try.