Emotional Benefits of Time in Nature

Have you ever noticed that when a child gets unhappy, he seeks out nature?  

Nature offers this in a way that video games and even books cannot.  They can offer escape, but they do not offer healing.  

How many ways does nature offer healing?  My oldest son, Ben, who is not a nature person, and I have come up with an expression: taking a cat break.  When things are just too noisy or we are feeling overwhelmed, we go outside and stroke a cat.  Ten minutes of that has been proven to bring down the heart rate and blood pressure.  That is the purpose behind therapy animals in nursing homes.  

Another child,Becki, is not a particularly nature-oriented person, but she has extreme emotions.  She has identified herself as ADHD, since coffee makes her fall asleep.  At any rate, when she gets very wound up, she leaves the house and goes for a walk.  One night when she was sixteen, she got very rebellious and got into a fight, first with me and then with her dad.  Dad had to lock her out of the house.  (Kevin Lehman recommends this, so you know.)  It was dark at that time and after we had all calmed down, I asked Steve, "Where's Becki?"  We thought perhaps she had snuck in through her grandparents door.  No sign of her.  The whole family got involved in the search. We never did find her because she had fallen asleep in the hay barn and didn't hear us calling.  But she was happy when she came back in!

I can name an instance with almost every child where he or she has sought out the solace of nature, whether taking a walk, climbing a tree, or petting an animal, or something else.

Not only does nature heal, it challenges us.  By giving a child to take a risk, whether holding the snake at the nature center or backcountry hiking, the opportunity to face danger and come out on top or perhaps even fail and find a new way or new challenge affects who that child will become.  It prepares him for emotional and career risks in his or her future.  After all, if I can hold that snake, I can take that test, I can make that call, I can commit to marry that person.  

When I was a child, I hiked on Isle Royale National Park with my parents. (It's pretty much the only National Park in the Midwest, so it is my dad's favorite.) The next year, they hiked the Minong Trail, a very difficult trail, and I wanted to know if I could go along.  They said, no, this was for grownups.  So, I got this idea in my head that when you were a grownup, you hiked the length of Isle Royale.  In 2011, at the age of 46, I, my father, my 18 year old son, Mick, and my 12 year old daughter, Abri, hiked the Greenstone Ridge Trail, a total of about 47 miles.  When we left on the seaplane, I looked back over the length of the island and realized that, even from the air, I could not see where we had started - it was that far away.  I began to cry.  I made it!  I was a grown-up!  If that accomplishment meant that much to me, a mature adult, what could it mean to my son and daughter?  I am so proud of them (even though they left Grandpa and me in the dust).  I know that they will do great things because they have tackled such a huge endeavor, faced danger in the wilderness, and completed what they set out to do.  Holding that snake in the nature center is just the first step!