Wade in a cranberry bog

“Everywhere I looked, bright, jewel-toned orbs surrounded me. It was like I was in the middle of a giant ball pit, except that I was standing waist-deep in a flooded field near Cape Cod. And those orbs? They were cranberries, millions of them swaying gently alongside me. The red and pink berries covered the entire surface of the water. When I moved, the berries moved with me in a quiet swoosh, filling up any empty space around my body. It was mesmerizing. I turned to one of the local farmers and said, “This is the most calming and tranquil experience I ever had.” Yes, I used the word “tranquil” because it was the only way to describe what I felt.”

“Yet, when I took those first steps into the water that day, careful not to trip and land face-first in the bog, a real smile crept across my face. I had no idea how ecstatic I would feel until I entered the water. The pressure from the water vacuum-sealed the waders to my legs, eliminating any and all air pockets between the fabric and me. Surprisingly, it felt like the compression boots I wear for recovery during half marathon training. I felt buoyant, not just in my body but in my chest and head too. At one point, I helped rake the berries to one side of the bog, and it was like living inside a giant Zen garden. Instead of stewing over looming deadlines, the lack of routine brought on by a new school year, or my frustration with my career, I sensed joy deep in my belly. I felt lighter than I had in weeks.”