We become in the world what we see of the world

​As I pulled up to the pay station at Cascade Falls yesterday, there was a young couple paying for their entrance into the park. (Side note: best 3 bucks I've spent in years). Each of them was holding a dog that was barking at me.

The couple apologized profusely.

I told them not to worry about it; I think the dogs are just as excited to get a hike in as I am. I would see the couple and their dogs later in my hike. The dogs indeed looked to be enjoying the day as much as any human out there.

Early in my hike, I caught up with another couple making their way toward the falls. It looked like a son hiking with his mother who appeared to be much older than me. She was having a slow but steady go of it. The son gently took the woman's hand and helped her move to the side to allow me to move past them.

I thanked them and thought, what a beautiful way for them to spend a Monday. They encountered me, but do they somehow feel like they have the woods to themselves?

A little further up the trail two older women passed me carrying their fly fishing rods. They didn't look like your typical fishermen. One in your face yet kind of beautiful reminder nature never holds back is that there is no such thing as typical.

If nature wants to take the time to remind us of that, I think we should heed nature's reminder.

I see a tiny mushroom peeking out of a hole in the base of a tree. I wonder if it hates that I've discovered its hiding place or if it feels like I'm blessed to have been one of the few to spot it today.

I think it's the latter. I think most of nature loves showing off its beauty.

Look at all the fallen trees. They make for odd shapes and unplanned structures. A playground of sorts. I am awed that in one moment a tree can be a tree and then without warning it's a piece of art stretching across a stream.

There it is, what I came for - the waterfall.

It's large and majestic and I can feel its spray from a hundred yards away. I felt so old and out of shape on the journey there, now I feel like a kid again.

Until I see two young kids scramble along a tiny little beach toward the falls, the joy of summer pouring from them, and their mother yelling for them to wait up.

And I think, no, I am not quite a kid again. Nor do I want to be.

I see a young girl sitting in a seated yoga pose just beneath the falls, her palms pointed upward to where the water begins to make it's violent plunge down toward her.

Is it her intent, I wonder, to bring peace to violence?

Where one might sit and hear a roar, is she hearing peace? Where one might think, don't get too close, is she thinking I'm right where I need to be?

She sits in a spot almost none of the world knows exists, yet she sits there as if it's her favorite spot.

We all share this world. But this world we share doesn't define us. What we see of the world does.

Sometimes it feels like the world isn't paying attention to you, but when you go into the world and pay attention to IT, you can start feeling as seen as you've ever felt.

It's easy to start believing we are where we live and where we go. But that's not entirely true. Maybe it's not much true at all. Because after hikes like yesterday's I come to believe we are what we see where we live and where we go.

I come to believe the world doesn't make us, what we pay attention to in the world does.

We will all go into the world today. The question is, what parts of the world today will we pay attention to?

Answer that, and you'll take a giant step toward understanding who you will become today.