Sweetness of Living

Native life in the barren Arctic is a constant battle to survive. To the Inuits who live there, the brutal struggle to stay alive is balanced by the sweetness of living. A long life is never assumed, not even an additional year. There was gratefulness for what each day provided. For them, it was not enough to survive if they did not also find something to celebrate.

My great grandparents felt the same way, I think. Life was hard when they moved to Wisconsin in the late 1800s and created a farm in the prairie wilderness. Yet the physical life and the fresh food they grew helped them live long lives.

I’ve never been to the Arctic, and while I do help out on a farm, what I love is to be in the mountains, sleep on the ground, hike all day, and cook dinner over a fire. Camping reminds me how little I really need to be happy —a place to sleep, food, good companions, and daily adventures.

Being in the wilderness centers me. It connects me to the land and its spirituality, what runs through the roots of the trees, shines in the eyes of its creatures, and sings in the melodies of the birds and the howls of coyotes. Its power surges in the rivers and claps its hands in the booming of the thunder.

Gratitude is not based on what I don’t have. It’s giving thanks for what I do.