I had a bit of time at the beginning of July to get away for a few days. And most of it wasn't to do something - or anything at all - it was just to be.  Time away is rare for me, and usually I find myself wanting to make the "best use" of it.  Do things!  See things! Get stuff done! 

Yes, there was a little of that this time around, including a full day of staining logs running the perimeter of the roofline.  And yes there was a few hours of trekking along the Superior Hiking Trail one of those glorious summer days.  

But most of the time was more in the range of sit and observe.  Just be.

Whether that was beside the shore of the lake, laying in a hammock under a pine, or poking at the embers of a campfire, it was time when I really didn't accomplish anything to speak of.  Kind of use-less.  And yet, it led me to reflect on what it feels like to just be an inhabitant of a place and that felt pretty useful.

I'm learning to acknowledge that I am not the first to inhabit the spaces in which I live.  Many have come before me, and for some, especially the original inhabitants of this space, they have been better connected to the space - better care-takers.   By learning their stories I’m becoming a better inhabitant, becoming more grateful what I now inhabit, and am trying to find ways to pay back what was stolen from the original inhabitants.

Living in a place, actually, living "in" it and not just making it fit your needs, is a difficult task.  Wilderness adventures and experiences have given me opportunities to try this for a short time, to be in a space and adapt to it, rather than having it adapt to me.  It meant that when I left, returned to wherever I was bound, that there wouldn't be a trace that I was there.  It could continue on doing what it has done for millennia.  

I'm guessing that all ecosystems would be much happier without human intrusion.  We, as a species, have been destructive; unwilling to co-exist, unable to adapt to nature, so adapting it to us at great cost.  To be an inhabitant recognizes that the plants, animals, living and non-living things that surround us are our neighbors and relatives and live here with us.  I'll agree that there are other creatures and forces which do have destructive capabilities and do wreak some great havoc on ecosystems, but for the living creatures who do bring "change" into their ecosystem, they understand where going too far is at their own peril.  And while a lighting strike's wildfire can bring harm and destruction, most ecosystems utilize events like this to bring rebirth and regeneration.  Can we as humans play this role as well?

I used to focus a lot on being a good citizen - a good steward - a model community member.  This leads to lots of doing, lots of rule following, and lots of worries about impacts we have upon others.  I've got little plaques and awards and proclamations and recognitions and honors to say I've done good things that have good impact.  But, if I'm not taking care of my own house (the earth) and learning to be an inhabitant of this place in a way that doesn't make it ill, then those awards are for naught.  

And so, I'm slowly nurturing native plants that once made Minneapolis a mix of prairie and meadow and woodland.  I'm disrupting the efforts of those who are investing in oil and supporting ways to move myself to more fully use renewable energy. I'm choosing to support those whose farming practices give back to the earth and help it regenerate.   I'm finding time to just be. Here.  An inhabitant.

May we all find ways to do the things that let us be.   And in our being, may we find ways to support our earth, ourselves and our neighbors to be the best we can be.  I look forward to walking beside you along this Green Path.