Mood Follows Action

Do you struggle with the motivation to accomplish your stated goals? Do you feel like you need to pump yourself up in order to take the steps to reach those goals? 

Recently, I read a great article in Outside magazine called "Motivation is Overrated," by Brad Stulberg. It's basically a response to the fact that many people fail to keep their New Year's resolutions, but I think the information is applicable anytime. I don't know about you, but I tend to make goals for myself throughout the year, whether it's health-related, work/school-related, or relationship-related. I don't put much stock in goals that are made once a year and then forgotten. I think self-introspection should be done regularly, and if something isn't working in life, then it needs to be corrected. This can happen in July as well as it can in January.

The premise of the article is this: Usually when we make a new goal, we are excited to get started. Our mood is elevated, we are raring to go. Inevitably, our mood changes. And we let that dictate our actions.

For instance, suppose you decide you really want to focus on healthy family dinners. You promise yourself you're going to cook six nights out of seven. You are chomping at the bit to get started; you have visions in your head of your family sitting around the dining room table, eating a delicious, balanced meal that you prepared. Everyone is laughing and talking. Everyone is feeling good because they are together and they are being nourished by what you provided. This feels great. Your heart swells and you decide to make it happen. The first week, you're pumped; you plan the week's meals, you shop for everything you need, you clear an hour out of your schedule to prepare the meal each night. That week goes great, the novelty is wonderful, your family is happy, oh, maybe your one picky kid isn't so thrilled, but it all goes swimmingly nonetheless. The next week you plan the same, but something comes up at work and you're not able to do one of the nights. Then one of your kids suddenly has a soccer practice scheduled and you can't do another night. You still forge ahead with the plan, but then you just don't feel like cooking one night, and one night turns into two, and before you know it, it all falls apart because your motivation failed. Your brain started telling you it wasn't worth all this trouble, and your FEELINGS started telling you it was too much work and trying to schedule it around real life just wasn't feasible. You let your MOOD DICTATE YOUR ACTIONS.

Well, I'm like this with daily exercise. I love to hike in the hills. I love to take walks. I especially love the way I feel afterwards - cleansed, whole, fresh. Alive. Energetic. Despite all these things, I have trouble getting motivated to just get out there. And so I was encouraged to read, in this Outside article, that I had it all backwards. I shouldn't wait until I FEEL like walking. Instead, MOOD FOLLOWS ACTION. I need to DO the thing first, and then the good feelings will follow. 

This has become my new motto. When I don't feel like doing my homework? MOOD FOLLOWS ACTION. I get it done and I feel good. Smart. On top of things. When I don't want to clean the house? MOOD FOLLOWS ACTION. I get it done and then I feel organized and happy with my surroundings. When I don't want to go walking in the rain? MOOD FOLLOWS ACTION. I get it done and then I feel better, more focused. 

It works in reverse too. When I want to reach for some ice cream after dinner? I say, 'that's just a feeling. I don't let my feelings dictate my actions.' And that helps. 

So, give it a try - make it your motto, too. And see if it helps you get closer to your goals. I'm finding it surprisingly affective.

By the way, I subscribed to Outside magazine for years, but I was always rather put off by their male-centric focus, especially male-athlete-centric focus. The gear they reviewed was always for guys, the articles were always about male athletes, and the sections on health and physical fitness were always skewed male. So I let my subscription lapse. But in the last year, I've been following them on twitter, and things are changing at the magazine. They made a commitment that half their stories would be by women writers, and they are focusing on people of color and people of different body types. One of the greatest adventure stories I read this year was the story of a queer black woman hiking the Appalachian Trail alone. Recently I also read a story about a female athlete with a larger, curvier size. Her size wasn't just glossed over, it was the focus of the article - that she was appreciating her body and what it could do.

Another thing they are doing well is commentary on the state of outdoor conservation in the current political climate. They also took a stance on the #metoo movement and started surveying women to find out about harassment in the outdoors. 

Plus, as their executive editor Alexandra Navas said, "We're trying to have our stories be more respresentative of our readers... As I see it, we're a magazine for people who love the outdoors, and that's not just core athletes, that can be anyone."  

If you, like me, have been turned off by this magazine in the past, I'd say give it another try. Here is their website - check it out.

Forest Bath

I generally don't eat too much on Thanksgiving (even though I very much like food and very much like my mother's oyster stuffing), but at some point I'll take a walk today, just because it seems like the right thing to do. Many of us will do this. Some will charge up a hill, or speed-step around a lake, making sure they've burned enough calories to make up for the later feast. Some will take a full-bellied, slow walk around after the meal, just trying to make enough room in the abdomen to breathe - or maybe room for more pie. Nothing wrong with either of these methods, but I'd like to suggest a little something different this Thanksgiving. How about a forest bath?

Ringtail Cat trail, Las Trampas Regional Wilderness

Have you heard about forest baths? This is a fairly new trend. I recently read about it on the NPR website. There are certified guides who take you on a forest experience. It's not about exercise exactly, though that's a nice side effect; it's about being mindful and in clear awareness of what's going on around you. Letting all of your senses fill with the forest. Looking for the little things, the treasures you often find on a walk - a striped acorn, or a birds-nest mushroom, or a woodpecker pattern in a tree trunk. Listening to the sounds of the forest, hearing a hawk call overhead, or a chickadee in the oak next to you, or the rustle of a lizard near your feet. Smelling the dryness of the leaves, the wet rot underneath, the salt of a coastline, the bark of a Ponderosa pine (vanilla!). Rubbing a smooth stone or a rough leaf with your fingertips.

Oak Harbor, Whidbey Island, Washington

I think it's great that there are certified guides that can take you through this process and remind you to be mindful, but I honestly don't think you need to pay anyone to teach you how to do this. It takes some practice, sure, but that's a task easily set and easily accomplished - just let yourself wander. It can even be on your regular trail. Maybe there's something you've been missing all these years, walking along a well-known path. You could even do this in your neighborhood or in your own yard. 

Wildcat Cove, Samish Bay, Larrabee State Park, Washington

For some folks, today is a very stressful day, filled with family that you might not enjoy talking with, or with whom you have heated arguments. I think this is probably happening more and more in the tense political climate we live in. Well, what better time than now to get out and do some deep breathing? This kind of walking, in a mindful way, is scientifically documented to lower your blood pressure by up to 40 points. Charging up a hill is great for your heart in one way, yes, but it turns out that slowing down and tuning in to your environment is also extremely good for your health. So if you aren't exactly thrilled to go climb a mountain, or you can't get motivated to do that, perhaps it'll be easier to motivate yourself just to get outside and notice things.

a huge Aminita muscaria under an oak tree, in downtown Danville, California

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. I hope you eat lots of lovely food, spend lots of time with your favorite people, and get a chance to wander in nature. 

Autumn Leaves

I went on a walk around our neighborhood this morning, taking time to to truly look at the fall color. Who says we don't experience autumn here in Northern California? We may not see the drifts of color that New England is famous for; but we certainly have single specimen examples. Our everyday sweeping and collecting of leaves tells me that winter is not far off, though the days might still be warm. 

Plum

When I was a Sophomore in high school, this time of year was filled with longing. If I close my eyes I can still see myself sitting in the bleachers in my band uniform, clutching my clarinet, watching the football game unfold. I can still feel that desperate wish to have a boyfriend sitting by my side, wearing a cable-knit sweater, holding my mittened hand in his, as the chilly wind blew leaves through my hair.

Western Redbud

Never mind that by the following year, I would be a completely different person, leaving that wistful girl behind and becoming a little more realistic. Never mind the college years when football season was a joke to me, and all I cared about was finding the next party. Never mind the early work years where this time of year only meant one thing, that I would get a four-day weekend at Thanksgiving. Never mind the years of my children's early childhoods, raking, jumping into, and kicking leaves and laughing. Never mind my middle-aged grumpiness at early nighttime, frustrated by the lack of light with which to get things done. The thing I most clearly feel, this time of year, is that 15 year-old self, filled with a 'something's coming' sort of feeling, and not yet having the words to name it.

Maple

I feel this same ennui whenever I hear the song "Autumn Leaves." It was originally a French song, written in 1945, and the title meant "The Dead Leaves." Johnny Mercer wrote English lyrics for the tune in 1947 and it was perhaps made most famous by Nat King Cole in 1956.

Valley Oak leaves in my driveway

“The falling leaves drift by my window
The falling leaves of red and gold
I see your lips, the summer kisses
The sunburned hands I used to hold

Since you went away the days grow long
And soon I’ll hear old winter’s song
But I miss you most of all my darling
When autumn leaves start to fall”

Liquid Amber, or Sweetgum

Today, however, I am feeling quite clearly that I need to get as far away from the media as I possibly can. I've done my civic duty, so there is no need to sit and watch the TV anxiously. Much better to get out in nature, and see some tangible, ancient results of the season.

Japanese Maple

The scientific explanation of the falling of leaves is rather fascinating. Here's a passage from the USDA: "The process that starts the cascade of events that result in fall color is actually a growth process. In late summer, the days begin to get shorter, and nights are longer. Like most plants, deciduous trees and shrubs are rather sensitive to length of the dark period each day. When nights reach a threshold value and are long enough, the cells near the juncture of the leaf and the stem divide rapidly, but they do not expand. This abscission layer is a corky layer of cells that slowly begins to block transport of materials such as carbohydrates from the leaf to the branch. It also blocks the flow of minerals from the roots into the leaves. Because the starting time of the whole process is dependent on night length, fall colors appear at about the same time each year in a given location, whether temperatures are cooler or warmer than normal."

Chinese Tallow

Here is more romantic version of the process, from Native American lore: "In ancient times, three young men, the bravest hunters in the world, set out with their dog to track a bear at first snowfall. The bear had made crisp paw prints in the cold, fresh crystals, leaving a trail that the hunters could rack with ease. Each print pushed deep into the snow and covered a wide area; this bear would be a huge, worthwhile catch. After months of following, the men began to lose confidence. The bear had led them across the globe, from the east where the sun rises to the west where it sets. All of the best hunting techniques had failed them, and eventually, they realized the bear was leading them up into the sky. The hunters called out to each other and tried to turn back, but it was too late to return to the ground. All they had left was the hunt, so they vowed to catch the bear. After days of fatigue, never stopping to eat or sleep, the hunters were on the brink of collapse when they finally caught up and killed the bear. It had been almost a year; autumn was upon them again. They skinned and cleaned the bear, laying it on a bed of oak branches. Its blood stained the leaves red, and this is why leaves turn red in the fall."

Tulip Poplar

I hope that you can find some time today, wherever you are, to get outside and enjoy the autumn leaves. The election will still be going on when you come back inside, and you'll be calmer and more ready to weather the political storm after your moment with the trees.