Vastness: A Morning by the Water

The other day, I sat in stillness by the water.

Not in a metaphorical way — I actually sat.

On a cobbled shoreline, in the company of trees, beneath a sky wide enough to hold all of me.

It was part of a nature-based mindfulness practice led by my friend Nick — but it wasn’t really about being guided.

It was about being met.

By stillness. By air. By something ancient and alive.

And in that space, something rose up that surprised me.

It wasn’t a loud emotion or a perfectly framed thought.

It was a soft, sudden remembering:

“Nature was the first place I ever felt free.”

Even when my world was black and white —

when belief systems and expectations narrowed every color down to right or wrong —

nature whispered in contrast.

It gave me sky.

It gave me edges.

It gave me space.

These days, being outside feels like the highest form of alignment.

Not because it’s trendy.

Not because it’s where I should be.

But because it’s where I keep meeting myself.

It’s the place where my nervous system resets without effort.

Where I don’t have to perform, explain, or interpret.

Where the wind doesn’t need me to be anyone —

and the land never asks if I’m doing enough.

As I stared out at the mountains, one word floated through me:

Vastness.

Not in a lonely way.

Not in a too big to understand kind of way.

Just… a beautiful void of possibility.

The unknown — without fear.

Joseph turned to me at one point and said,

“I don’t know where we’re going, but I know exactly how to get there.”

That felt like truth, too.

So today, I just want to offer you this little reflection:

If you’re feeling ungrounded, unsure, overstimulated, or like your own clarity is a few steps away…

Find a patch of sky.

Let it remind you:

Knowing doesn’t always come in answers.

Sometimes, it comes in space.