The solace of nature

We need it now more than ever.

For some time, I’ve had an unfinished piece waiting to be posted here. I had already titled it “Five Ways Nature Heals Us.” I had a list of ideas going. I was letting the thoughts simmer until they were ready to share.

Meanwhile, another war broke out. Another battle of humans versus humans. More suffering, more trauma. We’ve been doing this to each other since hominids first stood up on two legs. As a species, we seem incredibly inept at using peaceful methods of conflict resolution. We’re so eager to pick up the mace of war.

I’m not going to say more about this. Oceans of words have been spilled. I can’t add anything that hasn’t already been said. Over and over, the news breaks our hearts.

But maybe this is a good time to dust off my ideas about how nature can offer us solace. Because heaven knows, we need it right now. Even those of us not living in war zones, those of us blessed to be living peaceful lives in safe (or relatively safe) places … we have our own struggle. It’s about guilt and a sense of helplessness, the sheer horror of witnessing our fellow humans’ suffering as we watch from afar.

What can I can share with you that would have any meaning amid the chaos?

One medicine I know is the balm of nature. It’s why I named this newsletter Rx Nature—a prescription that brings relief.

The quiet constancy of the natural world holds us in tender arms. She’s a mother rocking her frightened child. Whispering assurances that somehow, some way, everything’s going to be okay. We need this, don’t we? We need our Mother.

Today, a Sunday afternoon, the kind of gorgeous fall day that radiates joy in every molecule of air, my husband and I drove to our nearest state park. It’s a lovely place of trees and water, presided over by a venerable mountain with a face of granite.

Table Rock Mountain, elevation 3,124 feet

The parking lot was full, the trail busy with a great mix of hikers: young families, older couples like us with their hiking poles, and packs of boisterous teens. Babies bounced in backpacks. Dogs strained at their leashes. Everyone seemed so happy to be outdoors, under the blue skies and reddening leaves. We found what we sought: an hour of respite from the afflictions of the world.

So my friends, here are those five ways I think nature can heal us. This is my original list. I’ve adapted it to present circumstances, the relentless drumbeat of war. But it also applies to anytime we venture outdoors. This medicine is always available.

1. Nature takes us outside ourselves.

   You’ve felt it, I’m pretty sure: A few minutes walking in a natural place, and whatever worldly concerns had been pestering our mind seem to evaporate. We re-orient. We align with the slower pace and lung-sweet aroma of nature. It’s such a relief, stepping away from our own fevered minds and bruised hearts.

2. Nature connects us with beauty.

   When the world is on fire, it’s all about survival—physical and psychological. But as we drink in the sensory aspects of nature all around us, we remember what beauty is. We rediscover the essence of this world, underneath its tormented struggles. And our heart rises up.

   

   An abundance of autumn beauty overhead, on the trail today

3. Nature teaches us about patience, and impermanence.

   There’s a famous quote attributed to Lao Tzu: “Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.” So true. And there’s such a learning in that for us. Everything is changing in nature, every moment. Even Table Rock, that 300-million-year-old mountain, is crumbling, shifting, changing. It’s the very embodiment of impermanence. And when we’re in despair about the state of the world, we can remember—thanks to nature—that the world will change. All we need is patience, and awareness.

4. Nature reminds us of our animal selves.

   We’re never more animalistic than when we clash with opponents, when conflict breaks out and we meet force with force. It seems important for us to confront this reality, to admit that we’re just another species that fights for what we want, what our instincts drive us to defend or to take. All of nature is animals, fighting to stay alive. We are no different.

5. Nature inspires us to take care of the planet where we live—our only home.

   I’m certainly not the only nature therapist or conservationist who quotes that old saying: We protect what we love, and we love what we’ve come to know. So knowing the natural world = loving the natural world = protecting the natural world. If we have any hope of stemming catastrophe, any hope of saving this precious, fragile planet, we first have to know it. Every time I go into nature, this is mostly what’s in my mind. I’m thinking of how exquisitely delicate it all is—and how perilously close we are to losing it. I don’t want to forget that. I don’t want to fall asleep to the danger. So I walk in the woods, again and again and again.

What would you add to my list of the ways nature soothes us? Surely there are more than these five. How does nature help you live in this world? I’d love to hear from you!