Hiking with Humanity

While walking in Joshua Tree National Park a few weeks ago, I stumbled upon a powerful practice that is helping me reclaim my love of people.

I have a foundational belief that every human is unique, precious and worthy of love. But lately the horrors of the world have set me back. People who hurt others, who embody “us against them,” or “me first” are everywhere, and it’s shading my view of all humans. I needed an antidote to this generalized bitterness and distrust, and I discovered an answer, an intentional practice, one stranger at a time.

After a day of hiking, laughing and chattering with friends in the park, we agreed to walk the last half hour back to the cars – silently and alone. The idea was to really take in the landscape, go inward, or clear the mind.

Instead, I gravitated to the people.

It was late afternoon, and very crowded. People of all ages, shapes and sizes streamed past me on their way into the park. I found myself focusing on individual hikers and wondering: What is your story? What is unique about you? How do you hurt? Whom do you love?

At first it was frustrating – just as I thought I was making sense of someone, they were past me, and a new cluster of people came into view. I had about five seconds per person.

So I decided to lean into the five-second experience – looking into people’s faces and eyes as they approached, observing their details – from the writing on their shirt, to the way they walked, to fragments of conversation. Things I never would have noticed without the silence and intention.

I learned something about each one – and consciously sent love out to them as they passed. Instantly I saw that two were sisters because of the way they swung their arms. A couple not speaking looked unhappy. The man with the Jesus t-shirt – a true believer (or just ironic?)

I felt intensely curious about each one, but as they passed, I gave them up with love. I fell into a flow – allowing each person to fill my senses and consciously sending love to them, and then letting them go, shifting my attention to the next, and the next.

I’m pretty sure they were oblivious to the creepy hiker staring them down, as I had a good pair of sunglasses on. They had no idea how deeply I saw them, or how, in five seconds, they were rebuilding my love for humanity.