The Wild 100: Day Zero, or Some Thoughts on Staying Engaged | Kristen Trudo
Towards the end of the summer, before I moved into the home we now share, my partner moved the table that we eat at from the kitchen into the living room. It is where I am seated at this moment. It’s a tall table with two bar stool type situations for seating. And it sits in a corner of the living room that has two decently sized windows. I’m staring out of one of them right now, looking at this break in the clouds where a muted, blue, sky is peeking through. We call the seating area our bistro; and I think, like so much during this time, the change in scenery was sorely needed. A new rhythm. An opportunity to stare at the birds outside as we share a meal, rather than the kitchen sink. It’s sweet.
I’m thinking about this small change as I reflect on the beginning of The Wild 100 tomorrow. I’ve attempted a 100 Day project before — in which I spent 100 days with my body. Drawing a self portrait and practicing Yoga. I greeted that project with excitement; feeling grounded and ready to commit to myself and a new ritual. This time, with this project, I find that I am feeling some nerves. Maybe more anxiety than excitement. It’s been a time of overwhelm, and I think the idea of adding one more commitment to my laundry list(s) of tasks is feeling like a bit much. So, if you’re feeling similarly — less excitement than anxiety, I’m here to share a few tips that helped me the last time I took on a project like this:
Let It Be Easy. No, seriously. Let it not be rigid (says my Taurus). Let it flow as you flow. If you “miss” a day, let it go. Move onto the next. The Wild 100 is not about reaching a goal, but instead, about cultivating connection with the outdoors. About being in relationship. That can begin at literally any moment. And rigidity — or beating yourself up for falling short of an expectation — is unnecessary and probably counterproductive, ya know?
Document. This could just be a me-thing. But last year when I participated in a 100 Day project, I documented every encounter with the project. And, now, it feels like a gift. A time capsule. You can document as a way of honoring your future self. Of gifting the You of 100 days from now with something sweet to look back on. It does not have to be extensive or precious in any way. I took a piece of butcher paper and folded it into a little zine (like this guy) — and I’m just going to jot some notes down every time I do something for my project. Also, literally any piece of paper works for this. This past weekend, I forgot my notebook(s) (yes plural — I’m that guy) when I attended BIPOC Wellness Weekend. And, after a momentary panic, I remembered I had a paper grocery bag in my back seat, and I used that to make a zine. Magic!
Phone a Friend. Speaking of my project, what am I even doing, you might be wondering. Or maybe you’re not. I’ll tell you briefly anyways. I’m taking on two projects; perhaps a recipe for disaster — only time will tell. The first (less important here) is 100 Days of Practice Outdoors — as in Yoga practice. I’m a practitioner who has been deeply struggling to connect to my practice and my body these days. And my hope is that this “change in scenery” (much like my living room bistro table) will inspire me to tap back in. Secondly, I phoned a friend: My partner and I will be doing 100 Miles of Frolicking around Portland via Bicycle, together. I’m looking forward to the quality time, the brisk Portland weather brushing against my skin, and the opportunity to share this project with someone else. From experience, I know that having someone to be excited with has helped me to keep coming back.
That’s all I’ve got for now. Maybe you have other tips to offer that can be shared. I’m wondering, how do you plan on staying engaged? What concerns or worries do you have? How are you imagining this project might shift your relationship to the outdoors? Or, why did you show up here in the first place? These are real questions that I’d love to hear back about, by the way — to be in conversation. Not just random musings into the ethers.
So, I’m really excited to hear how these days evolve for you. You and your fellow Wild 100ers (we will consider that name a work in progress) are doing thrilling things like: spending 100 days documenting the changing leaves, or biking around Portland (maybe see you around!), or doodling the things you see outside. Quite literally, just writing this to you has shifted my anxiety into something else — which is always sweet to notice. I hope that you’ll share things on the Interweb with us. Tag us on Instagram @wilddiversity and use the hashtag #thewild100 so that we can create a delightful little archive for our adventures together and apart.
Thank you for being here.
