In 2020, I discovered, against my will, that many of my loved ones considered me “indoors.” During the early days of the COVID-19 pandemic, I started getting texts from friends asking for advice on what to do while stuck indoors. I assumed this was because I chose a writing career that regularly involves playing games and watching TV. It was apparently also an identity marker. “You really are an inside person,” a friend texted me. “This is your time to shine.”
That’s not entirely wrong. I love games – and even more than that, I’ve enjoyed meeting people I’ve been about to try new indoor activities with over the past few years, both because of the quarantine and as they’ve become more accustomed to being indoors. to stay. the one who blew the minds of friends with simple tips like Stardew Valley keyboard shortcuts and recipes in various Legend of Zelda games.
But I have also always liked being outside; I love the otherworldly architecture of the rocks in Joshua Tree as much as I love mapping the fruiting season of the loquat trees in my neighborhood. (The tree two blocks away ripens the earliest.) Nothing recharges me faster than wandering around on foot. Even within city blocks, there’s so much to see: a single blush rose bursting through pruned branches, small tufts of cumulus clouds crossing LA’s signature sunny sky, or a set of three small picnic tables that a neighbor has taped to a trunk of the tree. the local squirrels.
Photo: Nicole Clark/Polygon
I just have a body that can’t handle the exertions of more demanding outdoor activities like camping or long-distance hiking. I’ve long struggled with chronic pain, and it got worse in 2021 after a back injury briefly left me bedridden. After more than two years of physical therapy, I am the fittest I have been in my life. Still, my physical limitations mean that I have to take it easier. It’s a matter of pacing and listening to my body’s signals instead of soothing the pain and pretending it’s not happening.
But it is also an internal change. It’s about redefining myself as “a person who walks to the park more often” instead of “a person who hikes and camps.” It is also about the willingness to speak up if a physical group activity is too challenging. I want to spend my year cultivating the habit of being outside at a pace that works for me, without apology.
The world out there is wonderful. It’s so excitingly alive; never static, always rich in something new. And yet it’s easy to fall into the misconception that enjoying nature is a hobby and practice that requires you to go to a specific place or buy specific equipment. But nature is all around us; we just have to step outside to observe and embrace her.
Reading both helped me understand this and gave me an intense desire for the outdoors. Perhaps these books can also be of help to you. Ross Gays The Book of Pleasures will make you aware of the beauty and responsibility of a small garden. Clare Walker Leslies Keep a nature diary can put a notebook in your pocket and encourage you to observe. When poet Ada Limón writes: “it’s the greening of the trees/ that really touches me”, we nod and understand spring as renewal. We are eager to witness its unfolding.
So I’m starting small and trying to weave more outdoor time into my existing hobbies. I often walk around my neighborhood. Walking is free and easy to build into a daily habit. I’m also usually happiest when I’m walking. Los Angeles isn’t known as a walkable city, but my apartment is in a fairly walkable location near a subway stop, and the bike paths work well enough for short distances by roller skating. I’m just as happy reading a book in my little neighborhood park, enjoying the sun, as I would be sitting inside. There are also city trails and beginner level hikes not far from where I live that I keep putting off. I’d like to see the downtown skyline from the top of the Baldwin Hills Scenic overlook, and try some beginner trails in the Angeles National Forest.
I also want to visit more National Parks, which I’ve been putting off for years, waiting for an imagined version of myself to cross hours of uneven terrain before sleeping under the stars. This black and white way of thinking – assuming I needed to acquire a certain skill – has prevented me from visiting beautiful places in ways that are more accessible and comfortable for me. I’ve internalized a lot of fear around ‘glamping’ based on dismissive images in the media that made it seem inauthentic or elitist.
But in 2023, I stayed in an Airbnb in Joshua Tree. Getting the quality rest I needed and being able to take my physical therapy equipment with me and store it safely helped me tackle some flat, low-intensity trails. Plus, sleeping in a bed at night was just more comfortable and cozy.
Eventually I’d like to work on some of the more physically demanding things. It’s especially difficult if it’s a newer hobby. Many of us face the same obstacles when pursuing hobbies in adulthood: learning a new skill means being bad at it for a while, maybe even for a long time. It’s an uphill battle to be bad at something for pleasure, eschewing cultural values around excellence in favor of joy and slowness. It’s even more intimidating when you’re performing an activity that is physically demanding and can lead to injury if done incorrectly.
But that is the value and usefulness of taking things step by step. It builds in time so you can observe your thoughts and the hows and whys of your body, just as you observe the world around you. It builds rungs in the ladder of where you’re going. These sports support you as you move towards the sun, giving you a new perspective on everything you see.
Ultimately, it’s the decision to invest in myself in this moment, rather than letting some idea of who I’m “supposed to be” stop me from doing what I want. That’s the friction that underlies so much of what holds us back, isn’t it? If I have to wait forever for her, this person who has the guts, the experience and also the physical ability to do it correctly – whatever that means! – I will deceive myself by doing it today. Like so many things, the will to explore is a muscle that grows as you work it. We just have to get started – and in 2024 I plan to do so.