Hope and Resilience
By Teresa Baker
Hard times don’t last always, for this too shall pass, as the gospel song goes. Now is the time to show what we are made of; we are stronger than the current situation we’re in. It is times like this that we must gather ourselves and shake off the blues of “woe is me.” We must look forward to better days because they are coming. With that precept in mind three of us—outdoor and DEI activists, OR show attendees, and nature lovers—let you know what we are looking forward to and what we are thankful for?
Teresa Baker
The resilience that is in nature is what I’m looking forward to touching again. It’s a resilience that is constant, no matter the damage it endures, through humans, fire and floods, it remains. We must be just as resilient. We must remember the beauty of a cascading waterfall when we get too close, how we are sprayed with its gentle kisses of water droplets or how we stand in awe and shrink in height as we stand under a towering redwood.
My days are filled with this anticipation, for it will be yet again. Perhaps I too have taken these moments for granted, but never again. I will forever be in appreciation of the very moment when I’m allowed to revisit these places. When I do leave them then, I will leave with a greater sense of purpose and place, than when I arrived. For these are the places that ground me and leave me wanting more, starving for the affection that I’m currently without, but knowing it will be once again.
Teresa Baker is the founder of the Outdoor Industry CEO Diversity Pledge.
José G. González
Resilience by definition is being able “to withstand or recover quickly from difficult conditions” and being “able to recoil or spring back into shape after bending, stretching, or being compressed.”
It may seem like an innate characteristic, like that of a rubber ball, but it is also a skill, or a set of skills, for us humans. Since it’s a skill, that means it’s something we can practice as well. Resilience is built on a foundation of physical, emotional, and mental health that provides for grounding, clarity of mind for decision-making and framing, and processing through learning which includes “failing.” Resilience is not simply “being positive and looking at the bright side” or just “taking the punches,” for me resilience is about moving through awareness of process when faced with a challenge, making a choice, and being aware of the consequences of such actions. This also includes holding space for feelings, for what thoughts derive from it, and what behavior I want to support as a result, knowing I can hold the space for them to be connected but not have them be just one lump state of action.
We develop strengths through challenge and discomfort, much like how we go to the gym for physical fitness or train for some physical endeavor. That is physical discomfort with the intention of developing more physical strength… and resilience. I use this same approach for mental and emotional discomforts and challenges. It is important to note that this training calls for planning as when you do physical workouts—you do not just lift the heaviest thing, run carelessly, consume whatever you want, or fail to seek help when appropriate. That is how you can hurt yourself. So remember: It’s okay to ask for help, to pay attention to what is too much, to note what you are consuming, to set rest and recovery time, and so on.
I share all this because nature and the outdoors is a big component of what I’ve mentioned. The outdoors is a place of recreation but it is also a place for wellness and education. I venture out for restoration, but it has also offered manageable dollops of resilience building. It has provided a reservoir I draw upon on in challenging times like this. It has been a platform of reflection for these ideas, as well a place of work where I have shared these practices with community. It has provided reminders, offerings, lessons, rest and more. Such is the power of the nature connection for me, and I feel the added importance of ensuring equitable access for a myriad of communities for whom that connection has been severed, destroyed, devalued, or denied.
To care for nature is to care for myself, an ecological In Lak’Ech, and it prepares me in many ways for when I have to be proactive for nature, rather than reactive by nature. Again, as a skill, not an innate trait—so I will stumble and make mistakes, but if done with intention, each time I hope it to be part of a deliberate process that builds resilience.
As the flowers and wild grasses that thrive after a fire remind me, you grow and persevere, you move toward the light. We model a life ever-resilient and stumble on in this cosmic vastness.
The founder of Latino Outdoors, José G. González is a speaker, illustrator, and educator who loves to share his outdoor vision.
Faith E. Briggs
We’ve had unexpected weather in Oregon in March. It felt fitting. In the midst of a pandemic, our new normal shifts daily. A week ago, I watched gleefully as the magnolias bloomed. They are my favorite flower. Each year, they feel to me like a promise, the first blooms to trumpet spring’s inevitable arrival. Days later it snowed. I worried about the magnolias and all the early spring sprouts pushing through the ground just to meet untimely bitter frost. The snow melted and the magnolias were there shining in the sun the next day. A few days later we officially got the stay at home order in Oregon. More businesses and restaurants shut, more people were laid off. The next day it hailed.
I went outside to watch the hail, and across the street the magnolia tree blew wildly in the wind, buckling under the weight of the storm. The next morning the blooms were there shining in the sun again. I walked over to them. The petals are torn in parts, many on the ground with full blossoms above missing their petal sistren. Yet they were still there, are still magnolias, still the beautiful trumpeters of the promise of spring.
It is our relationship with nature that allows us to learn these lessons, to be reminded of our own resilience and ability to weather unexpected storms. Now, more than ever, it is clear that access to green spaces is essential. It is also more clear than ever that it is a privilege.
We have been told that the safest thing to do is to stay at home. Only necessary errands are permissible. Only essential service jobs are encouraged to function normally, maintaining a six-foot distance whenever possible. And we are allowed to exercise. Gyms are closed down. Yet we are encouraged to get outside safely for a brisk walk, a light run, a moment of fresh air if we can. Many don’t have the means. That may look like not having access to transportation or proximity to green spaces that are not overcrowded. It might mean not having the mobility to move unassisted in a time where touch is not advisable, not having a safe neighborhood to walk in, or an inspiring place that gives a sense of calm, not having family to help confront these barriers, or access to a bike, to list a few.
I am reminded by my own access just how important it is to continue to advocate to make these privileges rights. Many of these green spaces are being closed off to the public. It’s not a safe time to be out, especially for those most vulnerable. This moment is a reminder of the fact that we are all connected, that we are all responsible for each other’s health, happiness and wellness. Remember our connectedness. When we are able to get back to a semblance of normalcy, take up the call to action to diversify, protect, preserve and create these green spaces. They are here for us in this time when we need them. We all deserve to have that access to those lessons that we can take from the magnolias.
Faith E. Briggs is a filmmaker, runner and believer in the importance of health and representation.