top of page

Embrace the Wild | Finding Aliveness in Nature

  • Writer: Spunky Mind
    Spunky Mind
  • Dec 27, 2025
  • 4 min read

Updated: Jan 18

Wild Horses close to Aus in Namib desert in Namibia.

Outside, in Garub, the wind doesn’t check in. It doesn’t ask if you’re ready. It howls across sand and stone, a knife of cold at dawn, a wall of white heat by noon, and a bracing chill again at dusk. It seems to follow no pattern. Yet, the wild horses don’t translate it. They barrel through it.


Manes whipping. Chests wide. Hooves drumming on ground that offers no guarantees of comfort. That’s where this aliveness begins. Not in a notebook. Not in a spiral of thought. But in movement.


Because air on skin isn’t just a metaphor. It’s a pulse. It’s our body waking up and declaring, I am here. I am on.


The Namib Desert: A Lesson in Resilience


The Namib Desert is old. Ancient. Violent. Beautiful. The horses outside Garub didn’t evolve here because conditions were easy. They’re here because they survived by remaining open. Wind tempered them. Temperature extremes schooled them. Movement sustained them.


When I think about those horses, I don’t think about being present. I think about being in motion.


The same energy arrived for me on my run today. I was jogging along the lakeshore when a cold breeze unfurled off the water and snapped me to attention. A few steps later, a gust of warm air surged through, bracketing my skin like a dare. Cool. Warm. Cool. Warm. Over and over again. The air changed like someone was messing with the thermostat just to see if I’d stay with it.


I didn’t pause to think about it. I ran right through it.


That’s the point.


Air on Skin: A Call to Action


We’re a little twisted about sensation, aren’t we? We treat cold like an annoyance. Heat like an adversary. We suit up. We insulate. We climate-control. And then we wonder why we feel dull. The body doesn’t want neutral. It wants contrast. It wants input.


Wind on skin is input.


Cold is a sharpening. Warmth is an opening. The cycle between the two is what wakes us up inside our own body. That’s not discomfort. That’s alignment.


Wild horses don’t brace against the air. They open into it. The rib cage expands. The stride lengthens. They don’t protect themselves from the experience. They take the experience and use it.


That’s a skill to steal. And it requires no overthinking.


Nature's Wisdom: A Simple Reminder


Somewhere in the middle of my run, this Henry David Thoreau line pounced into my mind just as it was needed:



“Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air.”



No interpretation required. No footnotes. Just straight up.


We don’t go out into the world to solve life. We go out into the world to step into it. The clarity might come later, if it comes at all. Sometimes the only harvest is a rewired and chilled-out nervous system, a long steady breath, and that hum of aliveness that sticks with you long after you’re back inside.


That’s good enough.


Open or Close: The Choice is Ours


The quickest way to dull life is to close. To hunch. To shield. To treat sensation like a thing to manage instead of a thing to use.


The wild horses of Garub don’t make it through a day by closing down. They make it through by opening up. Open chest. Open lungs. Open stride. Wind strikes, dust billows, bodies move forward anyway.


That’s the invitation.


Throw on a jacket only when you need to. Let the cool air reach your skin. Let warmth catch you by surprise. Let the air interrupt your thoughts. We don’t have to process it. We just have to move through it.


To stay open isn’t to be soft. It’s to be gently attentive.


Run Into the Day Like You Mean It


This is not about introspection. This is about intention.


When we hit a trail, a sidewalk, a lakeshore, or a patch of dirt, we don’t waddle into the moment. We step into it like a desert horse. Chest wide. Eyes on the path. No apologies for occupying space.


Feel the air. Let it wake you up. Let it nudge you. Let it remind us that this world is a living thing, and we’re part of it.


That aliveness lingers. How great! It carries over into your day, into your work, into your choices. Not as an idea. As a current.


Wind on skin. Feet on ground. Breath in motion.


The Joy of Connection with Nature


Connecting with nature isn’t just a pastime; it’s a vital part of our well-being. The wild horses teach us about resilience and the beauty of being alive. They remind us that life is not about avoiding discomfort but embracing it.


When we allow ourselves to feel the elements, we awaken our senses. We become more aware of our surroundings. This awareness fosters a deeper connection with nature and ourselves.


Imagine stepping outside and feeling the sun warm your face. Or the cool breeze brushing against your skin. Each sensation is an invitation to engage with the world around you.


Let’s not forget the joy of movement! Whether it’s a brisk walk, a run, or a gentle hike, being active in nature brings us closer to our true selves. It’s a dance with the earth, a celebration of life.


The Path to Active Zen


Finding joy and peace through unique outdoor and mindful practices is what we strive for. It’s about living an 'Active Zen' life. This means being fully present in each moment, embracing the sensations that come our way.


So, let’s take a page from the wild horses of Garub. Let’s run into the day with open hearts and open minds. Let’s celebrate the beauty of movement and the joy of being alive.


Cheers!


Kether

Spunky Mind


“It is the body that is the medium of expression.”

-Nan Shephard

bottom of page