After the griefs and life upheavals brought on by the COVID-19 pandemic, we’ve found ourselves yearning for something to ground us. The daily stress of work and home life take their toll when we don’t allow ourselves to slow down and breathe, and according to research, this stress can wreak total havoc on our mind and body.

According to Touro University online, extended periods of stress put us in a continuous “fight or flight” response. This state results in an increased heart rate, adrenaline rushes, and spiked cortisol levels. High levels of cortisol in the brain can lead to brain cell death and even brain shrinkage.

Desperate for an opportunity to get out of the office (and out of our heads), we got in touch with Susana Cruz of Chicana in Nature, a Dallas-based hiking wonder woman whose business mission is to educate black indigenous people of color about nature through hikes and outdoor adventures. All throughout the year, Susana plans individual and group hikes with people of all backgrounds and creeds; some of the trips are local in DFW, and some expand beyond Texas state limits.

These hikes aren’t distance based nor intended for those seeking an intense workout, Susana told us.

“I want you to connect with nature,” said Susana. “This is not about miles; if you want that, there’s other people that do that. I’m not it.”

Instead, she shared, these hikes are meant to pull us back to earth through guided meditation and hands-on education about the environment we live in.

Together we planned a sunset community hike in late October, open to a small handful of followers who RSVP’d in advance. Per Susana’s suggestion, we decided on a beginner-friendly 2 mile hike at Cedar Hill State Park located within Dallas County. We laced up our comfiest outdoor sneaks, grabbed our complimentary CNK Daily tote bags, and made a beeline for the park’s Duck Pond Trail.

October in Texas calls for changing scenery and slightly cooler temps. The weather was warm with lots of sunshine, which meant our light hike had us breaking a sweat. Susana kicked off the afternoon by having us circle up and introduce ourselves. One by one, we shared our past hiking experiences and what brought us on this hike that afternoon.

Susana shared her story with us, too.

A South Oak Cliff native, Susana grew up in a food desert area that’s not exactly notorious for its outdoor recreational activities.

Despite this, Susana’s mother, a local school teacher, made outdoor activities a priority for the Cruz family. These fond memories, Susana says, drive her to share her knowledge about Mother Earth with children who come from areas with lower socioeconomic statuses.

“Getting to be that person who looks like them, who is from a similar area, it makes a bigger impact,” Susana said. “When I had Latina educators or just people of color in front of me at a young age, it made me think, ‘I can do that.’ I want them to understand that they are capable.”

Susana then talked about the group objectives for the day’s hike. Aside from getting in touch with nature and learning about indigenous trees, our shared goal would be to honor the land that we were lucky enough to adventure through that evening.

“Our people, people of color- we all were either taken away or forced to work,” said Susana at the trail head. “Our lands were taken away. We need to take it back. And that’s what we’re doing; we’re gonna honor this land.”

We stopped several times on the hike as Susana pointed out different trees and plants, noting their use by native groups who lived in the area lifetimes ago. Susana pointed out the abundance of lichen, a gray-green fungus algae, forming on trees adjacent to the trail. Along the way, we held a daddy long legs insect (did you know that they aren’t venomous spiders?!), tasted the sweet honey-like nectar of Mesquite tree bean pods, and inspected deer tracks that led to the duck pond.

After a long trek, we came to the duck pond, for which our trail was named after. This was a small, enclosed pond surrounded by foliage and decorated with large stones around the water’s edge.

Susana had us gather around in a loose circle around the trail. We were instructed to pick out a smooth, comfortable spot on the ground for the meditation portion of the hike. We unrolled our mats and towels and sat down one by one.

We closed our eyes and grew quiet as we sat with our legs crossed. Susana guided us through deep, intentional breathing.

“Hear the birds chirping, hear the leaves moving… Listen,” guided Susana. “Listen.”

We sat and listened. As difficult as it was to quiet the racing thoughts in our heads about work, family, and hardships, we sat and listened. Here we were, after experiencing a worldwide pandemic, finally catching our breath.

“Focus on where you are now,” continued Susana. “Feel the ground you’re sitting on, feel the wind blowing through the trees-”

As if on cue, a breezy gust of wind carried through over the pond into our section of trail. Astounded (and a bit spooked out), some of us nervously laughed and made eye contact with each other around the circle.

Susana closed the meditation.

We hugged and continued our hike back.

I had a one-on-one candid conversation with Susana about her work after the hike. We talked more about her childhood, how her love of the outdoors cultivated, and why she loves what she does. She shared with me how exciting it is to see her students light up when holding insects they had only ever seen in books and how important it is for people of color to foster a good relationship with wilderness.

All of this brought us to my last question: “why is your relationship with nature so important to you?”

An unintentionally revealing question came with an answer that I (and maybe you, too) related to and found comfort in.

“I have PTSD,” shared Susana, “and one of the places that I felt most grounded and centered after the fact was at camp. With human beings, there's so much interaction between ourselves that we don't realize how much trauma we could experiencing, living your life, in the environment that you live.”

“It was so important for me to continue to like be in a space where where I could see that kind of beauty,” continued Susana, “that even even nature will reverse some of its trauma. There are trees that are burn survivors and are still standing tall at 1000 plus years old. It is incredible to be able to see that even they bounce back. If they can bounce back, we too can bounce back.”

At the end of our walk, we gathered near the trailhead where our sunset hike had begun. We hugged, shook hands, laughed, and exchanged contact information. The setting sun and humming insects ushered us out of their homestead as we made the winding drive out of the park.

While we physically ‘took nothing but pictures and left nothing but footprints’, we left feeling much lighter than we had upon arrival.

Stay connected: follow Chicana in Nature on Instagram, and book your next hiking adventure here.