Since moving to Clemson, the South Carolina Botanical Gardens has been a personal sanctuary. When graduate school stress seeped in, wandering garden paths seeped it out. Witnessing its seasonal changes and natural beauty elated my spirit; meandering its paths melted worries. T0day, each step through the gardens continues to be one of many toward well-being, which is an ongoing journey.
Three years ago, we couldn’t have imagined the impending shock to wellness that awaited. Only a few months into 2020, we suddenly sanitized our hands, wore face masks, and isolated ourselves as routine practices. The pandemic severed our social and work lives, we lived in fear and uncertainty, and wellness became a form of survival. Treading water took its toll, and we pieced together practices to stay afloat.
During the height of the pandemic, I moved home to care for my father, whose cancer metastasized following a transplant in the winter of 2019. We dealt with the shock to his health and our lives by piecing together practices as best we could. Neighborhood walks together replaced my garden walks alone; running the streets of my hometown replaced my dashes through the Upstate. Now, as the cold winter air now pricks my skin, I must push myself outdoors and move toward well-being.
Wellness isn’t always the easiest, most straightforward, or most comfortable route. Sometimes we stray from our paths, and it takes something or someone to steer us back on track, like a runner’s encounter with the pages of a magazine that unfurls later in this issue. Perhaps like the pages of that magazine, this issue will offer what you need to return to or find your path. Whether it’s ways to be active, find community, or nourish the body, there’s a trove of practices to be gleaned.
Along with offering wellness practices and resources, this issue reminds us that wellness is not simply the absence of disease, illness, or stress but the presence of jubilation, peace, and contentedness. Amid medical ailments unavoidable for many, a path toward wellness remains open. I admire my father, for example, for his tenacious commitment to soaking in the sun as a routine practice. In a way, to be well is to recognize our vulnerabilities and do our best within the limits we face.
Having spent the past few years in and out of doctors’ offices and hospitals, I’ve realized how quickly wellness can slip away and the work it takes to salvage and restore it. Having lived through COVID, I think many of us are still processing the same realization. However, through practices like those in this issue, we can have more time doing what we love, sharing time with people we love, and being our happiest, best selves.
