Climb the mountains and get their good tidings.
Nature’s peace will flow into you
as sunshine flows into trees.
The winds will blow their freshness into you,
and the storms their energy,
while cares will drop off you like falling leaves.
John Muir, Naturalist, conservationist, and writer
What draws us to nature? Why do we feel somehow better, less intense or perhaps more uplifted by a walk in the countryside, or even sitting for ten minutes on a park bench?
I am exploring this subject a little today because it seems to me that the answers to these questions are more intriguing, multi-layered and subtle than we generally consider. And, with some understanding of the biophilia effect, we are better able to optimise the extraordinary opportunities available to us as children of nature - even if we don’t necessarily think of ourselves as such!
Spending time in nature changes our hormones
At the most basic level, after a period in nature our physical state changes. Most of the time we are not consciously aware that we are living, breathing chemical cocktails - but we are. At any given moment we can measure the amount of cortisol and adrenalin - stress-response hormones - in our system versus endorphins - immune and ‘feel-good’ hormones. Our physical response to nature is to shift from stress- management to joy-creation mode.
Not only this, but such is the impact of the relaxation response we experience that our blood pressure drops, our breathing and heart rate slows, and a multiplicity of natural defenses are boosted. So potent are the physical benefits of spending time in nature, that it is public health policy in both Japan and South Korea to encourage people into nature spots created near cities for periods of ‘forest bathing’ (Shinrin-yoku). Being in nature promotes physical balance, and physical balance promotes healing.
Our bodies are remarkable self-healing organisms when in a balanced state. It’s worth wondering if the forest should be our primary physician, with our doctors in support roles to be called upon in the increasingly rare instances they are needed.
M. Amos Clifford, Your Guide to Forest Bathing
Nature gently draws us to our happy place - the present moment
Nature has a gentle but powerful way of constantly bringing us back to the present moment. When we spend time in nature, our attention is drawn by the sight of flowers on a swaying branch, the sound of birds in the trees, the feel of the breeze on our skin.
Neuroscientists tell us we can be in only one of two modes at any given time – ‘narrative mode,’ when we are paying attention to our thoughts, or ‘direct mode,’ when we are paying attention to our senses. They also tell us that there is a correlation between being in direct mode and being happy. This is because very often our thoughts take us to unhappy places – left to our own devices we may, for example, mull over some recent exchange which left us feeling depressed, jealous or worried. The longer we ruminate, the worse we feel, our bodies faithfully replicating what’s going on in our minds, shifting our negative state, entrenching our unhappiness ever more deeply.
All that has less chance of happening when we’re in nature. “Look here!” calls nature, waving a branch at us. “Catch a whiff of this!” demands nature, sending the scent of freshly-cut grass our way. Distracted from our thoughts, we have less chance of slipping into narrative mode for very long before being returned to a sensory experience of the present moment. Which is why cognitively speaking, being in nature is good for us.
Certain landscapes boost our moods by quieting some brain circuitry governing self-wallowing. Nature impacts on rumination in a way that is markedly different from urban experiences.
Florence Williams, The Nature Fix
Nature supports the dawning of insights
When we put ourselves into a state of physical relaxation and wellbeing, with the usual haze of thought-pollution lifted, we find ourselves in a place where ‘magic’ happens. I put ‘magic’ in inverted commas because although what is revealed may creep up on us in a way that catches us gently but happily by surprise, in a different way we come to recognise that we are simply seeing the obvious. What was staring us in the face all along only we were blind to it. This is not to diminish the huge importance of such insights. Rather, to reveal how nature helps quietly coax us into a state of being where we are better able to find our way to more authentic, purposeful lives.
What kind of insights might we expect nature to evoke in us?
Self-acceptance
Perfect symmetry rarely exists in nature. There are few right angles or straight lines. Nature is untidy, even unruly. And left to its own devices, it gets along just fine. When we show up, perhaps feeling ugly because of our pimply skin, miserable because we are flat broke or full of self-loathing having committed some unspeakable sin, how much does nature care? Does the dog who drops the stick at your feet in the park do so because he perceives you as successful, beautiful or influential in some way?
If love is the absence of judgement, then nature loves you. So, it’s okay to love yourself. You may not conform to the idealised model of yourself that you carry around in your head, but out in nature you come to realise - so what? Who cares? You have as much right to live, breathe and be happy as those rainbow lorikeets squawking gleefully in the trees. Don’t worry. Be happy!
Gratitude
One strikingly evident aspect of spending time outside is transience. We can hardly fail to notice how everything is in a state of becoming. Buds sprout on the side of denuded branches. They will swell and burst into flower. The flowers will be pollinated and some kind of seeds or fruits will appear. Depending on the season, leaves may range in colour from fresh green to mellow red. Time is passing and there is no replay.
A strong sense of time’s evanescence helps us value the moments we have. To be grateful that we are here, now. To make the most of whatever season of life we are in, because we know that it will end, perhaps unexpectedly.
Just like the many people who walked these same paths in the years, decades or millenia before us, one day we, too, will have taken our last walk.
This moment of life is precious and it’s right to value and be grateful for it. Carpe diem!
Perspective
There is a much bigger world out there and many beings face challenges far greater than our own. This is another inescapable recognition. There may be validity to the matters that concern us, but nature offers a broader perspective. It draws us out of our personal dramas to reveal a wider view: I am not the only one doing it tough. Others face ever greater hardships – and yet, hear them sing!
We feel somehow lighter and less burdened when we know we are not alone, which makes our challenges feel somehow more manageable. To the extent that we’re able to cultivate compassion for others, we may broaden our perspective so that, far from feeling bowed down, we feel that the life we lead is one of immense privilege.
Putting ourselves in the midst of something greater than our personal dramas, difficulties and pain … can give us a sense of space and openness, lifting us out of our narrow selves.
Mark Coleman, Awake in the Wild
Connection
We go into nature feeling like visitors. “I am going to walk in the park.” “I am visiting Africa on safari.” But when our minds really settle, and we perceive what truly is, we recognise that every breath we take is an exchange with the trees and plants around us. That the ninety percent of our body comprising water originally fell from the sky as rain. That everything solid about us is nothing other than processed soil.
This is a meditation I explain in much more detail in ‘I am nature.’ It’s a powerful meditation because of its self-evident validity. And what it reveals is that far from being visitors going into nature, we are manifestations of it. Creations arising out of it like waves from the ocean – identifiable as waves for just a moment before crashing back into the source from whence they came.
In nature we come home to ourselves. Physiologically we are adapted to it. Psychologically it brings us peace. At a non-conceptual level, we are drawn towards self-acceptance, gratitude, a wider perspective - and a profound state of connection.
I don’t know how much the writer D.H. Lawrence (1855-1930) knew of Buddhism, but there are certainly some powerful parallels between Dharma teachings and what he expressed with such poetic force in one of his final works entitled Apocalypse:
I am part of the sun as my eye is part of me. That I am part of the earth my feet know perfectly, and my blood is part of the sea. My soul knows that I am part of the human race, my soul is an organic part of the great human soul, as my spirit is part of my nation. In my own very self, I am part of my family. There is nothing of me that is alone and absolute except my mind, and we shall find that the mind has no existence by itself, it is only the glitter of the sun on the surface of the waters.
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You may enjoy a couple of other articles I have written about Mindful Nature here:
About half the money I raise from Substack subscriptions goes to the following four charities. Feel free to click on the underlined links to read more about them:
Wild is Life - home to endangered wildlife and the Zimbabwe Elephant Nursery; Twala Trust Animal Sanctuary - supporting indigenous animals as well as pets in extremely disadvantaged communities; Dongyu Gyatsal Ling Nunnery - supporting Buddhist nuns from the Himalaya regions; Gaden Relief - supporting Buddhist communities in Mongolia, Tibet, Nepal and India.
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Nice to be reminded. We walk along a wild part of the American River every day. It’s different every day, and you’ve reminded me to appreciate every second of our walk and the rest of the day as well.
Favorite passage "Perfect symmetry rarely exists in nature. There are few right angles or straight lines. Nature is untidy, even unruly. And left to its own devices, it gets along just fine. When we show up, perhaps feeling ugly because of our pimply skin, miserable because we are flat broke or full of self-loathing having committed some unspeakable sin, how much does nature care? Does the dog who drops the stick at your feet in the park do so because he perceives you as successful, beautiful or influential in some way?"