Wow—what a week! Life has this magical way of surprising us with moments of pure grace when we least expect them. This week, I found myself thinking about Thoth, the ancient Egyptian god of wisdom who understood time as something fluid and cyclical rather than linear. Inspired by this perspective, I traded screen time for green time, and the transformation was nothing short of remarkable.
Turns out, science backs up what my soul was craving. Studies show that immersing ourselves in nature—what the Japanese call shinrin-yoku or "forest bathing"—can lower stress hormones, boost immunity, and improve overall well-being (Li, 2018). This isn't just some new-age idea; it's rooted in Edward O. Wilson's (1984) biophilia hypothesis, which suggests we're hardwired to seek connection with the natural world.
And boy, did I feel that connection this week. Each morning, instead of diving straight into emails, I dove into the outdoors. Whether it was watching the sunrise paint the sky in watercolor hues or noticing how the first spring buds bravely pushed through the soil, these small moments became my daily medicine. Researchers have found that even brief exposure to nature can reduce anxiety and rumination (Bratman et al., 2015)—something I experienced firsthand as my usual worries seemed to melt away with each step on the forest trail.
What surprised me most was how this simple practice shifted my entire perspective. By focusing on the abundance around me—the warmth of sunlight, the sound of birdsong, the smell of damp earth after rain—I found myself feeling richer than I had in months. It's like attention restoration theory suggests: nature effortlessly captures our focus in a way that's gentle and restorative (Kaplan, 1995), giving our overstimulated minds the break they desperately need.
So here's my challenge to you this week: Find your way to connect with nature's rhythm. Maybe it's lunch in the park instead of at your desk. Maybe it's stopping to smell the roses (or the coffee brewing, or the rain on pavement). The research is clear—these small moments of connection aren't just nice, they're necessary for our well-being (Wilson, 1984).
As I sit here writing this, a breeze is dancing through my open window, carrying the scent of someone's freshly cut grass. It's a simple pleasure, but one that fills me with quiet joy. Here's to noticing these gifts—and to the wisdom (both ancient and scientific) that reminds us to slow down and breathe.
References
Bratman, G. N., Daily, G. C., Levy, B. J., & Gross, J. J. (2015). The benefits of nature experience: Improved affect and cognition. Landscape and Urban Planning, 138, 41–50. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.landurbplan.2015.02.005
Kaplan, S. (1995). The restorative benefits of nature: Toward an integrative framework. Journal of Environmental Psychology, 15(3), 169–182. https://doi.org/10.1016/0272-4944(95)90001-2
Li, Q. (2018). Shinrin-yoku: The art and science of forest bathing. Penguin Life.
Wilson, E. O. (1984). Biophilia. Harvard University Press.
P.S. Your dose of nature doesn't have to be Instagram-worthy to count. Even watching squirrels play from your apartment window "counts" as connecting with the wild world around you. Where will you find your moment of natural magic today?
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