Outdoorism

Most of us cannot live an entirely outdoor life, even if we like to dream about it. If our passion is strong, perhaps we venture outdoors for months at a time, but in my case at least, this is preceded by many more months of indoor preparation. There is a dynamic interplay between our indoor lives and our outdoor lives. The things we do indoors tend to enhance our outdoor experience in some ways, and degrade it in others. The opposite is also true. I believe this duality lies at the heart of outdoorism. It certainly provides new insights into my life struggles at every turn.

The duality can be seen at almost any level. It’s fun to come up with widely varying examples. Most have both a constructive side and destructive side. Let’s explore a few.

A single outing. The outing is planned indoors. Perhaps maps are used from an organization that supports outdoor conservation. During the trip, an intriguing encounter inspires an idea for another outing. On the destructive side, perhaps a lunch is packed indoors purchased from companies that create pollution. While hiking, a prick from a cactus spine creates a puncture wound that gets infected.

A lifestyle. A person makes her living indoors, but gets her creative energy from outdoor pursuits. Her trade requires the use of non-renewable natural resources, and she sometimes sacrifices good career opportunities to be outdoors more.

A society. Nature provides the resources for an industrial society, which in turn provides citizenry with technology that enables outdoor exploration without the struggles for food and shelter that our ancestors contended with. Meanwhile the industry destroys some of the natural resources that power it, and citizens who have come to value the diversity of nature begin to undermine the industry.

A brain. This perspective is illuminated by the book My Stroke of Insight, a narrative by brain scientist Jill Bolte Taylor. She experienced full right-brain consciousness when the left side of her brain was disabled by a stroke. This was a state of bliss - she was completely absorbed in the present, thrilled with life, at one with the universe. I’ve had hints of this state in the outdoors. Blissful presence was not sufficient for survival, though. Without any capacity to speak or understand language, see distinct objects, perceive her body as a solid separate from other solids, or track the passage of time, Jill couldn’t live in our common world. She had to redevelop her left-brain skills to live, even though she had grown to dislike the left brain’s tendency to dominate thought, worry needlessly, fabricate stories, and sow discontent. These are things I do more when I’m indoors … often in association with making a living.

The common patterns in these different perspectives are often described nicely by the yin and yang of Eastern philsophy, the theory of the unity of opposites. One of the laws of yin and yang is that they are usually out of balance, dominance shifting from one side to the other. Outdoorism is my attempt to compensate for the dominance of the Indoors by emphasizing the Outdoors in my life.