Silhouetted cottonwood trees against sunset sky, irrigation ditch full of water, and small bridge stretching over

make it a practice

My Spring Cleanse this year was all about inviting balance and rhythm into my days. My main priority was restoring a sense of deep relaxation in my nervous system. I leaned into the medicine of simplicity ~ in my meals and in my daily actions.

 

A cleanse is about more than what we eat or don’t eat. It’s about turning inwards to listen to ourselves more. It’s easy to disregard the voice of our own inner wisdom when we’re caught up in all the complexities of life. A cleanse is about making some breathing room, on all the levels. 


One of the ways I invited deep relaxation was by taking a walk every evening. I took more walks in general, but the evening one was non-negotiable. Sometimes it was actually a leisurely bike ride with my family. But mostly it was a walk. At the end of every day, I headed to the Bosque, the cottonwood forest that borders the Rio Grande. We go there often. I just brought some extra intention and rhythm to the practice.

On these easeful excursions, I immersed myself in the embrace of nature. I slowed my mind, focusing on the sensations within and the gifts around me. I used this as a time of contemplation and surrender to the end of the day. 

One the first or second evening, I heard an owl softly calling in the woods.

I’ve lived in Albuquerque for over 16 years, and have been taking walks on the Bosque since I moved here. Every time I’ve heard or seen an owl here has been within a mile of the river ~ usually a lot closer. I’ve come to appreciate that, whether I hear them or not, they are definitely there. 

Though the Rio Grande runs through the city, the space around it is a haven, and a blessing I don’t take lightly. It’s on the path of the great migration of the Sandhill Cranes. They flock along its banks through the winter. Porcupines take refuge in tree branches, always a somewhat unexpected sight, tucked in securely from gusts through windy season, quietly chewing bark in the middle of winter, and occasionally dropping bits down through the branches…

Anyway, I hadn’t heard an owl in several months at least. So I kept my ears pricked every evening after that. 

In the course I lead on Habit Change, one of the simple daily habits we learn and practice is intentionally caring for our senses. Ayurveda teaches us that our sense organs are powerful instruments of perception, and treating them well is one way to directly support our health… Disrespecting our senses is actually one of the primary causes of disease according to Classical Vedic texts. 

A simple shift in focus so often opens the door to overlooked gifts. Reaching into the evening woods with my ears on these walks, scanning the air waves for the owl’s low calls, clearly illustrated how much room we have to tune into our senses. There’s plenty of room to expand our attention in deceptively simple ways. 


The days passed. The evening walk became a practice. As this daily rhythm deepened, I felt its soothing effect on my nervous system. After a few days, I actually craved the walk. I couldn’t go without it. I needed this simple ritual to close out the day and connect with the peaceful beauty of my environment.

 

I kept listening. I heard songbirds and twigs snapping and dry leaves chattering in the trees overhead. I heard the rustling of small creatures on the side of the trail. I heard catkins dropping from the cottonwood trees. 

 

A few days ago, two weeks into the practice, the woods were noisy. On the river, out of sight, an airboat was running, loud. Training for search and rescue, the din of its motor reverberated through the evening air. Sirens wailed in the distance. One after the next. 

And in the midst of this cacophony, I heard the owl’s calls again. My eyes lifted, scanned the tangle of branches. I stepped slowly off the path and, stopping to stand silent and still, I listened carefully for more. I allowed my ears to direct my path towards the sound. And all of a sudden, in a small clearing, I found myself looking right up at a Great Horned Owl, perched high in a tree branch. 


I stood very still. For several minutes I remained there, watching it with reverence. I bowed to it, slowly. Crouched low to the ground to make myself less obtrusive. It took in my presence, and turned its head this way and that, following its own auditory superpowers, taking in movements too minute for me to even register. 

My senses led me here. My commitment to repeating the simplest of acts led me here. My practice led me here. 

Complicated times call for simple remedies. The practice, of grounding into the ordinary, is the medicine. 

 


Several years ago, I attended a talk by Dr. Claudia Welch, a teacher I hold in the highest regard. An esteemed Doctor of Oriental Medicine, Ayurvedic Practitioner, teacher and author, she delivered an incredibly eloquent message about the power of the ordinary. By returning to the space of the ordinary, grounding ourselves in the simple routines of our daily lives, we form a practice. The very foundation for health.

In one sense, it’s all about what we value. She remarked on the allure of traveling the globe to study complex, esoteric herbal formulas. But the prizing of that knowledge can come at a cost, of failing to see that our basic daily movements in fact are the ones that are the most fundamental for preserving our health. We can quickly get off-kilter, grasping at the most complex solutions, overlooking what’s beneath our feet, or in front of our eyes. Overlooking the sheer power of simplicity.

Coming from someone who has travelled the world, learned the coveted formulas, treated countless patients, learned at the feet of wise sages and doctors, this message struck a powerful chord. Dr. Welch recently posted: “It sometimes takes years of training and a good deal of experience to learn that the secrets are in the basics.”

 

The intention I set for this evening walk was a seed I planted. The cleanse was a particularly fertile ground for this seed. I considered it just as important as taking in lots of dark leafy greens and allowing more space for digestion.

I have come to discover that returning to the simplest of daily actions provides a source of great delight, satisfaction and deep support in my life. I’ve learned to open up a powerful and positive space in my days through daily practices. 

I have a yoga practice. A breathing practice. A practice of sitting in silence. A practice of devoting some extra, loving time to my kitchen once or twice a week. A practice, now, of closing the day with an evening walk. 

Gratitude is a practice. As is compassion, forgiveness… these aren’t things we obtain, once and for all. They’re things we practice. It’s never about mastery. It’s about willingness. We find ourselves presented with more and more opportunities to practice with them each and every day, if we choose to see the opportunities. 

The beauty of a practice is in the willingness to return to something, to create a space and slowly expand it. Above all, the gift of a practice is our ability to continue to learn from it.

 

A practice can be anything. Playing an instrument, taking a daily walk, putting pen to paper… It is quite notably not about the destination or the outcome. Owl or no owl, the evening walk is complete unto itself. Returning to anything with devotion, with consistency, builds integrity within ourselves. It allows us to learn about ourselves, to open the door to momentum, inspiration, expansion… occasional moments of the extraordinary. And to actually become a new version of ourselves in the process. 

 

This means a lot to me because I struggled with routine for most of my life. I fundamentally doubted my ability to do anything with consistency. I had plenty of thoughts about what I could be doing to take better care of myself. But I could never seem to muster the necessary follow-through.

Now, through an approach that incorporates habit change science and the wisdom of Ayurveda, I’ve learned to understand and show up for myself in a totally new way. I’ve reestablished a sense of integrity with myself. I’ve learned to commit in small but dependable ways to my own best intentions. The value of this is beyond measure.

I’ve tapped into the healing rhythms that were missing from my life. I’ve learned how to build supportive practices into my day, that help me to weather life’s ups and downs with more grace and ease and kindness to myself. With more resilience. All of this opens me up to greater possibilities in the years to come.

And I’m here to support you in doing the same. 

 


I lead a course that guides people to restore balance to their days and reclaim their health by incorporating daily habits that, over time, simply become a part of who we are. And we free up enormous energy in the process. 

If you’re ready to transform your health and discover your potential through simple daily habits in a safe, supportive setting, schedule a call with me here.  Your future self thanks you.