Reconnect with nature, reconnect with self

For three summers in a row, I worked and lived away from home, hoping to make some money to help cover the cost of college.

While my summer jobs provided their own fun-filled adventures, a hole was left in my heart. I felt empty; in some ways dead. I missed the sound of crickets late in the evening, the spectacle of fireflies dancing and the peacefulness of the starry night sky. The concrete jungle had left me to despair. I wanted to escape.

This last summer was different. For the first time in years, I was home for the summer. No job, no classes, no lab work. It was just me, the house, my family and the woods. Having been in the city for so long, I had forgotten what it was like to just get lost in nature. I felt like I had awoken from a long dream.

I made it my goal last summer to get reconnected with nature. Yet, what I believed was a noble goal, others found questionable. Friends and family would ask me the same question, over and over again: why? What is the point? Doesn’t modern civilization provide you with everything you would need or want? Why would you ever choose to go out, get bitten by mosquitoes, get covered in mud and lose all semblances to a modern human being?

I am not going to lie: such questions annoyed me. I could not, for the life of me, understand how anyone could be so adverse to the outdoors. I scoffed at any mention of these questions and quickly concluded that such people were both naïve and ignorant.

However, time and again, my plans fell through. Each trip was met with failure. Camping trip to the Adirondacks — I had no car. Hiking trip along the Appalachian Trail — my friends bailed out the last second.

Star gazing in Cherry Springs State Park — none of my friends were interested. After each disappointment, I was forced to ask myself: why do I feel so drawn to the outdoors?

I go into the outdoors in order to get away from my life. The concrete walls of the city are cold and emotionless. Nature restores us, breaths life back into our souls. When I am out in the woods, I feel truer, more spontaneous.

With each breath, I make a connection with life around me. Time has stopped. I can let go of my illusions of the past and forget about the uncertain future. I can sit there and revel in the now, the fleeting present.

When I was younger, my family would make yearly trips to the Delaware Water Gap in New Jersey. Some of my fondest childhood memories are from the Gap. I am in the middle of the forest. It is autumn and the trees have become a concert of colors: oranges, reds, yellows, browns and greens. There is an old oak tree, at least 200 years old, seated in the middle of a circle of trees. I recline against the old oak, my arms behind my head and begin to purge all thoughts from my mind.

I then listen to the peaceful symphony of nature. The quiet rumble of the Delaware River. The cry of the golden eagle. The medley of the cardinals and the blue jays. The quiet rustle of the leaves. In the distance, a pair of deer cautiously walks across my view.

I am reminded of Henry David Thoreau — his daring experiment at Walden Pond, his emphasis on harmony with nature. Twelve years in the forest, alone in a cabin. Oh the wonders he must have seen. Maybe, what is most important is what I don’t hear: the sounds of airplanes flying above, the din of crowds, and cars quickly whisking pass. I have finally arrived at my destination: I have found nature.

Modern civilization has provided us with everything we could ever need or want. In minutes, we can order the newest gadget from Japan and have it shipped to our door steps overnight. With our wealth we can have anything we want whenever we want: plasma screen televisions, fancy cars, even mail order brides. But, in the end, are we really happy? After all our hard work, have we found the true bliss?

If you really look hard, below the surface, you will know the answer is no. Unrestrained hedonism and relentless consumption have not made us happier; if anything, we are even more miserable. I go into the woods because I want to find true happiness. As Thoreau once wrote, “I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to put to rout all that was not life and not when I had come to die discover that I had not lived.”

Don McClean, I think, summed up my feelings best in his song Castles in the Air:

And if she asks you why, you can tell her that I told you. That I’m tired of castles in the air. I’ve got a dream I want the world to share. And castle walls just lead me to despair.

Hills of forest green where the mountains touch the sky, A dream come true, I’ll live there till I die. I’m asking you to say my last goodbye. The love we knew ain’t worth another try.

So I dare everyone: go out, into the wild, even for a day. Just maybe, you will find yourself again.