The Joy of Sauntering

My calendar informs me that today, June 19, is "World Sauntering Day."  According to Wikipedia, the commemoration on this date goes back to 1979 when it was started in Michigan by an anti-jogger "to encourage people to slow down and appreciate the world around them."

I love the word "saunter" — it conveys a sense of relaxed, unhurried enjoyment. Each of these synonyms has a similarly pleasant feel to it:

• Stroll
• Amble
• Mosey
• Wander
• Meander

The word "saunter" always brings to mind the story told about one of my heroes, John Muir (1838-1914), a legendary naturalist, outdoorsman, environmentalist, and philosopher. Muir loved to hike and camp in the Sierras of California. But it's said that he despised the word "hike" because it had too much of a connotation of rushing to a destination. (Imagine how he would feel about the newer practice of "trail running"!) He stated that people should "saunter" in the mountains, and would tell this story in support of his position:

"Do you know the origin of that word 'saunter?' It's a beautiful word. Away back in the Middle Ages people used to go on pilgrimages to the Holy Land, and when people in the villages through which they passed asked where they were going, they would reply, "A la sainte terre,' 'To the Holy Land.' And so they became known as sainte-terre-ers or saunterers. Now these mountains are our Holy Land, and we ought to saunter through them reverently, not 'hike' through them."

According to one person who spent time with Muir in the mountains:

John Muir lived up to his doctrine. He was usually the last man to reach camp. He never hurried. He stopped to get acquainted with individual trees along the way. He would hail people passing by and make them get down on hands and knees if necessary to see the beauty of some little bed of almost microscopic flowers. Usually he appeared at camp with some new flowers in his hat and a little piece of fir bough in his buttonhole. (Albert W. Palmer, "The Mountain Trail and Its Message", 1911)

What a marvelous image! Incidentally, most linguists don't support this etymology of the word. Muir may have learned his derivation from an east-coast saunterer who preceded him, Henry David Thoreau, who used very similar language and derivation in his marvelous essay from the 1850's titled Walking. Thoreau warned about imitation saunterers who really had no intention of going to the Holy Land, but just appreciated the charity that their pretense evoked. But an authentic saunterer was a Crusader, and "every walk is a sort of crusade... to go forth and reconquer this Holy Land from the hands of the Infidels." The essay on Walking ends with this beautiful phrase:

So we saunter toward the Holy Land, till one day the sun shall shine more brightly than ever he has done, shall perchance shine into our minds and hearts, and light up our whole lives with a great awakening light, as warm and serene and golden as on a bankside in autumn.

All too often, on my excursions into the mountains or experiences with nature, I find myself hurrying towards a destination. I have to get to the summit so I can return home and tend to the rest of my duties. However, my "saving grace" is that I love to take photos — both sweeping landscapes and intimate close-ups. That often slows me down. A friend captured this shot of me once, sneaking up on a flower, in the Timpanogos Basin:

So while "peak-bagging" and even trail running have their place, I appreciate this reminder on World Sauntering Day to enjoy the Holy Land that is all around us.

And in a profound way, this is a great lesson for life. We life in complex times when there are many demands and opportunities competing for our attention. We too often try to "cram in" as much as possible, rushing toward ephemeral destinations as if our urgency added value to the journey. Perhaps we need more symbolic or literal "sauntering" as a more prominent portion of life. It's not just the ground around us that is holy; it's not just flowers, birds, animals, landscapes, and sunsets; but it's especially the people. Our lives take on more holiness as we reach out to others, as we develop friendships, as we serve, as we learn together. C. S. Lewis understood this principle:

“It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest most uninteresting person you can talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship.... There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations—these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting splendors.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory

Surrounded by so many wonders, who wouldn't appreciate the chance to saunter through such a Holy Land?