The Spiritual Practice of Camping
It’s the most wonderful time of the year–camping season! I confess that I have become a very spoiled camper, as our family has left the tents and air mattresses far behind in favor of a travel trailer with a real bed, AC and a bathroom. Though we travel with many of the comforts of home, camping invites us into a different rhythm. We spend most of our time outside, enjoying trees and rivers and starry skies. We talk and play games more than we check tasks off a list or get lost in technology. We marvel at how food seems to taste better outside and make s’mores while we reminisce around the campfire. Laughter and awe tend to show up more freely and frequently than when we’re in the midst of the busyness of daily life.
I’m not sure my family would view it this way, but camping has become a spiritual practice for me. The most significant dimension of this is that camping calls me to slow down and to be present. I feel the sunshine, the wind, or (on one occasion) the sleet on my face. I notice how my body shifts when I’m resting amidst the trees. I cheer when someone rolls a Yahtzee and push for a rematch when my husband wins our cribbage game. I get a snack when I’m hungry and allow myself to rest when I’m tired. I listen to The Avett Brothers while I wash the dishes. I take photos of the sun setting over the lake. I savor the retelling of family stories and give thanks for the good memories that we share, especially as my kids are moving rapidly towards adulthood. I wonder at how many stars I can see on a clear night and revel in both my smallness and my belovedness amidst the vastness of the universe.
These are sacred moments.
They are also very ordinary moments. There’s not much that happens when we camp that couldn’t happen at home or on a walk through the neighborhood or with a visit to a park, and there are certainly times when I do encounter holy moments in such places. But I get distracted! I’m tired by the time I get home from work, and there’s always one thing or another that I should be doing. Turning on the TV or scrolling on my phone are easy temptations when energy is low. The kids are often working or spending time with friends. It takes effort to disrupt the inertia of the scatteredness of our lives to nurture presence and connection. Some days, I just don’t seem to have it in me.
Spiritual practices bring me back. They invite me to return to what matters most. They remind me of who I truly am, of what is sacred and life-giving. They encourage me to take notice of gifts present all around me and to recognize the extraordinary available to me in the ordinary moments. They connect me with joy and wonder. Some practices, like camping, pull me out of the daily routine to see life from a new perspective. Others, like prayer, gratitude, or silence, anchor me–if only for a moment–within the routine of my day, providing some grounding within the stress and busyness.
What is it that brings you back to what matters? What invites you to slow down and to be present? Your practices might look similar to or completely different from mine, and that’s fine! Whatever they are, I hope that you find time and space in this season to welcome them in and to allow them to nurture your spirit.