Bright Eyes and Bushy Tails

Nature and Clarity

I just spent three days in nature, staying two nights in a tent and hiking fifteen miles to a monastery. There in the middle of nowhere, Oklahoma, I felt more at peace than I have in a long time. I experienced the sunrise and sunset each day, waking before the one and going to sleep just after the other. I watched the stars, clearly visible without artificial lighting. I slept bundled in the cold without much distraction from cars or other noise. I walked for miles each day in the sun, making sure I was nourished with good food and bringing my mind back to my prayer intentions for the pilgrimage.

At the same time, I decided not to wear my contact lenses, since I wouldn’t have guaranteed access to running water and soap to keep my hands clean. Coming off of some information about how good the sunlight is for your energy levels and vision, I thought I’d keep my glasses on with the option to take them off.

I thought it would be a bit frustrating since my glasses are missing some parts and fall off of my face if I look too far down. Not to mention the depth perception adjustment going from contacts. But I haven’t put the contacts back in. They made my eyes so dry and left me so without contact with the sunlight that the difference was powerful.

With glasses I experienced more clarity of vision than I had expected. My eyes didn’t have that “tired” feeling and it felt like they were never strained. I felt clarity and calmness and I felt energized by the sunlight.

It reminded me of something I notice in the Amish. When I look into the eyes of an Amish man, I see a calm, focused clarity of vision. Not “crazy eyes,” not an intense stare, but a look that says that work is not burdensome and deep thought is not a stranger. I felt something of that last weekend.

I think there’s a connection between this visual clarity, the calm, wise look of the Amish man, and a life lived outdoors in quietude.

When we live in the midst of constant engine noise, phones, street lights, and music, we can easily get overstimulated. There was almost nothing to distract me in rural Oklahoma. It was the middle of the middle of nowhere, with numbered roads, huge farms, and barely any traffic. It was jarring to return home to the train that passes by our relatively rural neighborhood in Tennessee. I had thought that we lived in the sticks, but it’s nothing compared to that part of the Midwest.

What we don’t realize is that we live within the constant hum of noise, sensory and mental. We fill our lives with distractions, and what we don’t provide directly comes to us via our environment through lights, sounds, and other stimuli. When we take a step out of this environment, things begin to clear up. When we let the sun hit our eyes, we receive clarity of vision and are able to achieve deeper wisdom.

The life of an Amish person and the life of a pilgrim are movement, sunlight, and quiet. The Amish and pilgrims, when intentionally embracing their forms of life, are energized, calm, and reflective.

I hope to help these things stick as I return to the modern world. I’d like to see how long the contacts can stay in the case.