Going Outside
I've been pondering how often we spend time outside, especially in the context of my own life. I listened to a podcast that talked about grounding, something I was never sure was scientifically valid, and I did some further reading. The concept of grounding is definitely under-researched, but here's the gist: grounding electrically resets the body and restores our pH balance, potentially helping to reduce inflammation and autoimmune response and/or stimulating healthy cellular function. Perhaps it's placebo, but I've felt better after walking barefoot around the grassy area outside my front door consistently this week.
The fact remains: we evolved to be outside. Our ancestors, born naked in caves and thrust into the world with no tools, had to scavenge for any food or shelter. It was a harsh existence. Those whose biology suited survival in the elements passed their genes onward. Thus slowly over time our biology adapted to make use of energy from the sun, chemical compounds in the Earth, prevalent bacteria, and so on.
Compare this to the modern person in 2023. How many minutes a day do we spend outside? Five? Accumulated through the brief moments we spend between our box house, box car, box work or box school, and any other enclosed spaces we visit? Even then, we're wearing shoes, usually pounding hard surfaces such as concrete, asphalt, or stone. How often do we walk barefoot on the Earth? It wasn't until I started walking barefoot this week that I realized it had been weeks, if not months, since I last made direct contact with the Earth.
I'm starting to think about what I want 2024 to look like for me. Reflecting on how I spend my time, I'm resolved next year will feature more moments in nature. I'm going to prioritize touching the Earth as often as I can. The Earth is our birthplace, our nurturing ground, where we learn to run and play and love and live, and our final resting place. It's part of what makes us human. We are not simply living on the surface of the Earth, we are a part of it.