By the time the spring semester ended this year at my college, my brain probably looked like something you would find at the bottom of a dumpster. My mind, body, and spirit ached from months of constant classes, papers, assignments, and responsibilities to clubs and organizations. As much as I enjoyed the semester, I needed a break. Thankfully, the activities I planned for the summer allowed just enough time for some self-care. I would be working part-time at the college, preparing for my position as a Resident Student Mentor by reading some great books and house-sitting for one of my professors. To my surprise, though, my revitalization did not come from any of these things directly. Instead, it happened gradually on my daily walk to work.
The walk from my professor's house to the college takes me through Brandon Park, a peaceful little bubble nestled within the city of Williamsport, Pennsylvania. It is certainly not a large park, but large enough to make the buildings invisible in some parts. I have always had a profound love for nature, but during the school year, I do not make time for luxuries like a nice stroll through the park. On my first walk to work, the transition between city and the tiny speck of trees was palpable, and immediately my mind opened up to the familiar sights, sounds and smells. Traffic noises were replaced by the calls of birds and the playful chatter of squirrels. Around me, I saw the delightful animals which called this place home. The park is also home to many types of trees, and I recalled their names as I walked: oak, cedar, maple, birch, beech, cherry. I could smell the sweet grass, the blossoming trees and the musty earth. This was just the medicine that I needed.
Over the next week, I began to spend more and more time in the park. Instead of simply walking through, I now slowly wander through the park, opening up my senses and experiencing as much as I can. Each minute detail that I find adds to my experience. On my way home from work the other day, I sat at one of the benches and focused specifically on the squirrels. They were such a joy to watch! They chased each other and foraged for food, chattering noisily all the while. This might receive a few eye rolls from the other students at my college, because Lycoming is overpopulated with squirrels, but watching them in this particular environment, living their lives to the best of their ability energized me.
During the college semester, one can easily forget that the rest of the world lives right outside of our campus's protective sphere. Daily responsibilities overwhelm us to the point that we cannot even enjoy the simple pleasures of life anymore. Like me, many people may forget the joy that nature brings to them. For others, it could be interaction with their pets that they cannot bring to college or their desire to help a person in need. A fresh snowfall, the taste of their favorite snack, swinging on a swing or laughing with your friends until your sides ache. No matter how small the pleasure, it still is significant if it makes you happy.
Next semester, I will visit the park more. The school year may be stressful, but that doesn't mean I have to throw away the things that fill me with joy. And to you, dear reader, I present a challenge to you: No matter how much stress life throws at you, always remember to count your simple pleasures.
