It’s an ants world

I was sitting on my yoga mat one morning, finishing up my meditation practice when I noticed two ants on a leaf next to me. I watched them for a while, trying to see the world through their eyes. This small campsite that was my home for a night, is likely the entire world to them.

Imagine if our entire world became only where we could travel under our own volition. If there were no cars, trains or planes to help us move through this massive world, our worlds would be so much smaller too. It is wild to think how limited the entirety of our universe would become.

Part of me felt sorry for the ants. They think this is all there is in the world. They will never know the cool mountain air of Colorado or the muggy humid landscape of Florida. They will never get to know another forest or see any other streams than the ones right here.

Almost immediately I realized I didn’t feel sorry for them at all, I actually was a bit envious. These tiny creatures know their world well. They likely know every rock, plant, tree and body of water as if it is part of them. They don’t have to wake up every morning and orient themselves to where they are exactly like I’ve had to do recently. They are able to live in relationship with the land.

I felt this pang of envy because I sense this is something us humans have lost. As our world has grown, our connection to it has shrunk. Especially as I have been traveling so much, I often feel like a foreigner wherever I am.

I have rarely lived in one place long in my life. My nomadic nature has pulled me from place to place far more often than what may be normal. I’ve loved it but I think I’ve missed connecting deeply to the places I’ve called home. I lived in the Eagle valley the longest of any place in my adult life, nearly seven years in total.

The past few years I felt like I finally got to know the land I was living on. I began to meet the plants and trees and mountains and call them by name. I witnessed them in every season, watching them bloom, flourish in spring and summer and fade into autumn and winter. It was a level of connection that I didn’t know I was missing until I found it.

Now, hiking and exploring different parts of our incredible country, I feel myself at a loss sometimes. I want to know the names of the plants I walk by and the trees that are providing shade to me, but I do not. Again, I feel like a foreigner, a bit of an uninvited guest. The connection that took so much time to build in Colorado is missing.

Because our worlds are so vast these days, I sense many forget to look around where their feet are planted. I read once that kids these days can identify more brands and logos than plants and animals native to their home. It isn’t surprising but it is still a bit heartbreaking.

It makes sense why people don’t care about the environment and climate change. Everyone is so disconnected from the abundant life around them, how can they care? Nature is slow and the pace of our lives is fast. This fast paced life we live impairs our connection to place in ways we can barely recognize.

This is why I am envious of the ants. There is nothing to distract them from the world around them. At the end of the day, we are just another species of animal on this planet. No matter how superior we believe we are, there is an innate desire to feel connected to our home. When we feel connected, we feel safe. When we feel safe, we unlock so much magic in our lives.

What if our loss of connection to the nature around us is the root of so much? Perhaps it is why we aren’t urgently protecting the environment. Perhaps it is why there is an epidemic of loneliness. Perhaps it is why we feel so stressed out and chaotic all the time. Perhaps it is why so many of us don’t feel as safe as we could.

It is a gift that our world is so big. I am beyond grateful that I can travel around the world with relative ease. Traveling has gifted me with so much wisdom and perspective. But connecting intentionally to the nature around me has also been an incredible gift. Slowing down and watching the bugs, stopping to snap photos of every flower and mushroom, and placing a hand on a tree trunk to feel its strength always fills me with joy.

Nature moves at a different pace than we do most of the time. Intentionally slowing down would be good for all of us to do every once in a while. Meet the land you live on as if it is a long lost friend. I wonder if we would all feel a little more love around us if we did.