As many of you know, I have been struggling to understand and express here how living close to nature changes you. Since moving into big sky country over four years ago, I have changed tremendously, to the point where living with a brain injury does not effect me half as much. Why is this? Because nature is slow and deliberate. Nature is in no hurry to explain or understand itself. Nature is so not like the predominantly human world.
This week I read an amazing interview with writer Barry Lopez in the December issue of “The Sun.” Here he explains myself to me well. As someone who grew up in small to medium-sized cities, I rarely experienced the wonder or intimacy of living close to nature. I experienced instead the loneliness and lack of opportunities for true intimacy in the human-made world. I did not even appreciate my own need to reconnect with the natural world completely until my husband Mike talked me into moving to a wide-open space in the high desert of southern Colorado.
As soon as we moved here I felt different. I felt myself slowing down and appreciating each moment much more completely. Each astounding new view took my breathe away. Slowly I began naturally letting go of my past and my future, feeling less alone than I ever have. Nature is deliberate and can be trusted unlike most experiences in wholly human culture. The beautiful silence outside my door each morning provided me with authentic contact with the harmony in a world outside of human existence. Living in such beauty awakens a sense of gratitude for all there is to experience in the natural world. There so much here that most will never experience directly.
Barry Lopez believes that if you asked anyone walking down a sidewalk in a city, “What is it that you really want?” Many would say intimacy. But “you can’t gain intimacy without vulnerability, and you can’t have vulnerability without trust.” Barry finds this lack of intimacy and vulnerability in human culture to be manifested by our lack of intimacy with the land itself. Cities create a kind of competition and divisiveness that can not be found outside of them in the natural world.
Sometimes I think about the darkest moments in my past, moments of depression and hopelessness. I now realize that if I had known enough to escape from cities at those times, I would have found the kind of meaning and peace I needed to find new hope for meeting my next future.
But then we are all on schedule to learn what we must to discover our best life. Trust in that!
4 thoughts on “Restoring our lost intimacy with nature”
When I lived near Walsenburg, one of John Mall High School’s teachers asked me why I had come here after leaving Los Angeles.
I simply said, “The Land”. He didn’t get it. He looked at me quizzically until I left the room.
Hi Sydney! Yes, this kind of intimacy is not available to everyone. I’m not sure why, but living here is so much richer than visiting…
Your right. The intimacy is way richer when you live here and I really miss it.
This is absolutely true! Nature restores you. I was privileged to grow up on a ranch far out in the country. The space. The quiet. Soul-restoring.
There was a movie a few years ago, ‘What Women Want’. In it a man could hear what women were thinking. He, an ad executive, came up with an ad for running shoes. In it a woman is running on a quiet country road. The ad talks from the road’s point of view—that it doesn’t care if you’re wearing lipstick or makeup, that you’re well dressed. All that it cares is that you come back to see it again. And that’s how I feel about nature. It will be there waiting when I get back to visit!