Healing Through Nature

So far in life, I've been fairly close to some sort of quiet nature. I grew up surrounded by trees and water, and when I lose those, I lose me. While in college, I would crave for summer. Not for the heat (I actually really dislike heat), but for knowing that we would be able to go to nature. Camping. Harley rides. River trips. Lakes. Trees. Quiet. Stillness. Calm. It was my reset button. The most necessary part of my year. Some years, I'd be so busy with dance and school that I'd barely get out once. Luckily, dance has a way of keeping me sane. However, the last handful of months, I've dropped out of the regular dancing scene. I replaced it with other forms of exercise, but it's never the same release that I craved. So, I run off into nature. Nature doesn't judge. It doesn't try to be anything that it's not. It simply exists in its element and helps keep the world going. As I sit on this rock letting the icy wind kiss my cheeks, I can observe the sun rising over the ridge. It's warmth painting across a mountain of trees as a bluejay screams, trying to fight off another bird for the popcorn seeds we left behind. There are no expectations. There is no big push to do something by any certain time. No one expects anything from me.... Except me. With the quiet of the rest of the world, I hear me loud and clear. I hear my guilt. I hear my blame. I hear my pain. But most of all, I hear my love. I hear it more loudly than any of the other bullshit. I see the kindness and patience that my husband exudes as a support strap pops off my backpack and refuses to go back on. He does not blame or let my frustration and guilt slow us down. We work together with my never stopping "fix it" brain and his strong, stubborn thumbs. Easy. Calm. Lacking judgement. Just doing. Fixing. Existing without expectations. It's quiet. The wind dances over the water, causing it to ripple towards the shore. The trees remain unaffected by the gentle breeze. Even as the world starts to wake up, it is silent. The negative thoughts that threaten to consume me can't help but find a peace. There is a faltered distraction in everything that is wrong... Everything that could go wrong. After attending my great uncle's funeral last month, everyone assumed we would return home exhausted and do nothing. But as I anxiously paced the house, I asked Paul if we could go up to the mountains. I had every intention of swimming, but the late winter convinced me otherwise. So instead, we found a quiet place to sit on a rock overlooking my favorite lake on the mountain. We ate food. Watched fish darting around, and just existed. I think that's why I loved Ireland and Scotland so much. There is so much nature. The lush green and unending slew of animals kept my heart full. Even in stressful times of being lost, it was ok. We would find our way eventually. When we got lost in the midst of Paris, it was simply stressful. People everywhere. Things happening all around. Judgement. And unknown language (mostly). Even now, my mind fights against me when I reflect back on the busy streets of a city. It begs for me to return to serenity. I won't argue. The sun is heating my back as larger gusts of wind race through the trees. I'm listening. I often think about the four elements. The experts say that I am of the element of earth. We are to be as one. But at my cusp, other elements argue that point. I become the air of my cusp. The things that I feel, are wind. Then water. Then earth. Then fire. Wind. Freedom. Release. Touch. The wind floods my ears with its own words. It touches every part of my revealed flesh and tries to touch the covered parts. It reminds me to fill my lungs and just breathe. It's full-bodied distraction releases me from the grips of expectation, dispair, guilt, blame, worry.... It allows me to think. When I sit on the back of the Harley, I'm free. Not just from confinements of a vehicle, but from confinements of my mind. My thoughts kick into gear. I clearly see things that I want to happen. I feel empowered to do those things. And then, we return back to chaos. I become overwhelmed. I doubt. I worry. But sometimes, I follow through. The more I give in to my need for nature, the more I wonder how long it would take out here to "cure" me, but then I realize there is nothing to cure. My depression and anxiety have formed me into who I am today. I don't want to get rid of it, I want to take its hand and work together. I won't let my darkness consume me out here. I will wrap it in my arm and walk beside it. As equals. I have leveled the playing field right now, and now you're no longer a threat. It's no longer a threat. When I write, it accesses another part of my brain. When it flows, I am not aware of what is being said until I go back and read it. Often times, I am pleasantly surprised by at least one moment. That moment here is the strength to tell my darkness no. I can smile to myself and be proud. If you find yourself struggling with no apparent hope in sight, try things out. See what quiets your mind enough to let you heal. Maybe it's writing, drawing, painting, dancing, singing, blasting loud music, going outside, staying inside... Whatever it may be for you, find it. Let yourself go there. Let go of the rest of the world and just be ok existing there.