When you’re too stressed to connect with nature
Great Crested Grebe
In recent years nature connection interventions have become more common in parks, gardens, nature reserves and heritage settings. Their wellbeing programmes range from self-guided activities accessed via QR codes or printed guides, through to facilitated sessions with expert guides.
Sometimes it doesn’t matter how beautiful the setting, and how well designed the guidance, it’s just not possible to relax and enjoy the moment. Maybe you’re too tired, have a worrying thought that won’t leave you alone, or just can’t switch off your busy mind.
I had just this experience yesterday at RSPB Old Moor. Their excellent ‘Mindfulness in 1 minute’ activities got me closer, but I still couldn’t quite relax.
So how can nature help us when we’ve too wrapped up in ourselves to find a connection?
The first thing to remember is don’t be too hard on yourself. Taking your attention away from yourself and into your surroundings has immediate benefits, even if you can only sustain it for a millisecond.
With this in mind, I took myself off to a bird hide to see if I could settle my busy mind. The first thing I noticed were the squabbling black headed gulls, who did nothing to ease my restlessness. They were constantly agitating and winding each other up, dive-bombing the tufted ducks and engaging in noisy spiralling chases in the air.
I wondered briefly if this was going to be a hopeless mission. But experience tells me to just let that cynical thought float by and to wait. I decided to give it another minute.
A moment later, I was struck by the intensity of the kingfisher-blue water, the metallic sheen contrasting against the pale golden reeds and milky blue sky. The reeds were jostling for position, swaying rhythmically in the wind and rotating their brown feathery heads in elongated circles. In my mind the gulls began to recede into the background as I got drawn into this soothing dance.
Two Great Crested Grebes drifted into view in a gap between the reeds, resting on the water, preening then tucking their heads back into their wing. As they sailed slowly in and out of sight I noticed they were gently rotating to face each other. I realised that below the surface they were paddling just enough to stay together, whilst allowing the water to support and carry them in its flows and eddies. It touched my heart, knowing they will soon be striving to raise a family, struggling against predators, weather, food supplies.
A breath of wind lifted from the pool and blew into the hide making the hinges creak and sigh. Something released in me and the wind wiped me clean. A shift had happened. I had settled and opened to the emotional connection that had eluded me.
It's impossible to predict which part of the natural world will speak to you from one moment to the next.
Our expectations can present a barrier. In the spring there can be a pressure to think we should feel full of energy and optimism at the first sight of a snowdrop, when we may be feeling sluggish and tired. But if you can let go of trying to control things and simply wait and see what you notice, you’ll find something that speaks to the quiet part of you that doesn’t have words and yearns to be noticed.