Touching Grass: My First Camping Trip
The Parent Trap is one of my favorite movies of all time. But I fear I may be Meredith Blake because 1) I am almost always dressed in black and white, and 2) I had never gone camping before.
But after everything life and work have thrown at me lately, I suddenly had the urge to “touch grass.” Not in the metaphorical way people say online, but literally. I wanted to step away from my routine, get outside, and do something completely different. It felt like the right time to finally go on my first ever camping trip.
Recently, a company re-org completely changed what my work life looks like. Staring at screens started to feel heavier. The constant need to be productive, prove myself, and figure things out felt amplified. I found myself feeling disoriented by a new role, a new team, and new responsibilities. Somehow, this made my already long commute feel even longer. On top of that, I felt like I was struggling to find my footing in some of the relationships closest to me. When it rains, it pours, I guess.
My first instinct was to do something drastic. Maybe book a big vacation, create some grand distraction, or find a way to outrun the uncomfortable feelings I was sitting with. But honestly, none of that felt right. I realized the last thing I needed was more noise. Instead of creating bigger plot twists to overcome the ones life had already handed me, maybe I just needed to pause.
So after a bit of research, my husband and I decided to take a screens-free weekend trip to Lake Jennings in San Diego. We originally invited my friend and her Eagle Scout boyfriend because, let’s be honest, we could use all the help we could get. But things didn’t go according to plan, and we ended up going without our Eagle Scout warrior. After several trips to REI and Googling approximately 15 times whether there are bears in San Diego (the answer is yes, at the zoo), I finally decided: what’s the worst that could happen?
To my surprise, I absolutely loved setting up camp. There was something about being productive with my hands instead of doing my usual mental cartwheels that felt like such a relief. I took long walks with my husband and had completely delusional conversations about bird species we knew nothing about. We played like kids poking at the campfire all night and cooked some of the most delicious hot dogs I’ve ever had. Camp cooking might just be one of my favorite things in the world. (Camp dishwashing, however, is for someone else.) I painted, sat in silence, reconnected with my husband, and didn’t look at a screen once. And remember when I said when it rains, it pours? Well, it literally rained while we were camping. I thought it would be a nightmare. Instead, I barely cared.
Camping taught me that there is still so much about myself left to discover. I never thought I would enjoy camping, but it ended up being one of my favorite things I’ve done in a while. It made me realize how often I put myself in a box before even giving myself the chance to try something new.
I also learned that I am a lot more adaptable than I give myself credit for. It rained, and I was fine. The rice I planned on cooking turned into mush, and I was fine. Things didn’t go perfectly, and somehow, everything still turned out okay.Maybe I need a lot less control than I think I do.
The problems I was facing before this trip didn’t disappear. My job was still changing. My commute was still long. Life was still happening. But I came back with a little more perspective. The discomfort I was feeling wasn’t because I was failing or falling behind. It was because I was growing. And maybe that’s the part of life I’m learning to embrace. The messy, uncertain, uncomfortable moments are often the exact ones that mean we’re becoming someone new.
