The mind and Mother Nature: How spending time in nature changed my outlook on mental health
A Night to Forget
It was a December midnight, on a day too ordinary to recall entirely, that I sat in the dark enclosure of a dorm shower with cold water spewing from the shower head. The cold, tiled walls suffocated me, and I knelt on the floor in despair as I rocked back and forth with my head in my hands.
I was trapped, I knew that much, and my mind had become an impenetrable prison leaving me at the mercy of my intrusive thoughts that racked my entire body. I wanted to move, but I knew it was pointless. I wanted to say something, but there was nothing to say.
Around the age of 12, I began to experience impulses and random thoughts that did not feel like my own. I could feel my body tensing up, transforming into survival mode as I was prompted to repeat my actions over and over again.
Turn on the sink again, my mind would yell. You didn’t do it right. You will not stop until you do it right.
It was either that or an overwhelming dread that something would happen to those I loved most.
You didn’t wave your grandma goodbye. This could be the last time you ever see her. What if she dies? You’ll regret not waving and showing how much you love her. She’ll die with her last impression of you being too busy to care.
With the help of my mother, I was diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) alongside pre-existing anxiety and was promptly put on medication.
It helped, even alleviated some of the urges that I faced. But, like a silent trap, OCD always lingers, waiting to catch the mind by surprise. No medication can ever rid you of it completely.
So, there were times when I faltered — when the thoughts would decide to spike and leave me in a frozen stupor of anxiety. I knew, in that little dorm shower, that this could no longer happen. I would not allow it to happen. There had to be something, anything else I could do, to mitigate this pain and clear my head from this burden.
In my desperation, I tried to focus on a happy memory. Suddenly, waves of vivid images and experiences from walking on nature trails up near my cabin popped into my head. I remembered the peace and the oneness I felt all those years ago.
But how? How did I feel that then and not now?
That led to another thought: I had read somewhere that nature helps with mental health.
I’ll do it, I said to myself. Maybe that can help.
And that’s when I decided, starting in early January, that my daily nature walk sessions would be born.
The Power of Nature
Nature’s impact on mental health is by no means just a “feeling” — it’s backed by real and evident science. According to the Mayo Clinic Press, spending time in nature is shown to improve cognition, memory, mood, and reduced anxiety — serving as an effective tool to mitigate stress and to help those with chronic mental health issues, such as depression, anxiety, ADHD, and PTSD.
Furthermore, cognitive functions — such as task performance, decision making, quality sleep, improved creativity, and attention span — are all evidence of positive nature exposure.
Though these facts may seem like common sense, many individuals are not benefitting from nature exposure the way they could be, with 1 in 6 American adults reporting not spending any time in nature, according to the APM Research Lab.
Professor Keith Young, an instructor at the University of Minnesota Duluth with a master’s in psychology, believes even 15 minutes of time in nature can make a difference.
“It doesn’t have to be for really long periods of time,” Young said. “Being out for even short durations can be beneficial in the moment.”
Young also mentions the scenery of where a person decides to spend time, stating that it does not have to be an area too elaborate or natural to bring these benefits.
“It doesn’t have to be a nature trail, but even in any kind of green space, you know, amongst some trees or some grass or some bushes.”
Young cited his own experience spending time in nature.
“I can certainly attest to [the fact] that I feel more relaxed,” Young said. “…[when] I’ve been focused on a task for a long period of time… walking away from it and then getting outside [and] coming back to it… [I] seem to be able to focus better.”
Research even shows that spending a short period of time in nature can boost one’s mental health for up to 7 hours, citing how individuals who walked in nature had lower activity in the prefrontal cortex– the area of the brain responsible for “rumination,” which is replaying (mostly negative) thoughts over and over again in the brain.
Of course, this directly applies for OCD, too, since the lowering of cortisol — the stress hormone — reduces anxiety and therefore OCD symptoms, which are usually triggered by stress and worry. OCD and anxiety are usually correlated — a “joint package,” in other words.
Walking through Bagley Nature Area: Recording My Experience
Since that night and its memory of my happiest moments in childhood, I have begun to spend time in nature by taking walks on the UMD nature reserve known as the Bagley Nature Area at least twice every week for one hour. I wanted to document how I usually felt by choosing one night in particular to record my “before nature walk” and “after nature walk” mental states.
I started walking from the parking lot of my dorm up to the Oakland Apartments and then to the Bagley entrance. Almost instantly, I felt a change.
The cold wind blowing on my face was refreshing, invigorating my senses and encouraging me to get out of my head and experience the nipping cold. My head, once tense and heavy, began to clear up as I listened to the branches creak in the wind like old doors.
As I continued to walk down the trail, I was met with a yellowed landscape of dead grass and barren trees — uniquely beautiful, as if a low-saturated filter had been applied to every plant in sight.
I continued my walk, finding myself pausing intentionally to observe everything around me with a renewed interest and curiosity. Out of the blue, I felt a surge of excitement as I saw two geese meander slowly in front of me, completely unbothered by my presence.
In awe, I realized I had never been that close to geese before, and I took out my camera in a defensive position. To my surprise, they didn’t run or charge at me for my closeness, they instead looked at me and continued to graze the grass.
I’m a Disney princess, I thought. The goose whisperer.
I traversed the trails around Rock Pond and captured a heart-warming scene: mallard ducks playing in the water, their flapping wings sending ripples to the shore. A female and male duck cuddled together off to the side, likely sleeping in the water.
After taking some pictures and looping around the bend, I peered through the stretch of red osier dogwood and heard the ruffling of leaves revealing a little gray bunny in the tall grass, trying to remain unseen and unheard. It was almost camouflaged perfectly in the background, save for a fluffy white tail.
At the same entrance, my two new goose friends continued their lazy wandering around the pond. I waved goodbye to them and looked at the faded streams of pink from the distant setting sun.
I was calm, energized, and filled with a sense of gratitude— a thankfulness to have access to nature and that such beauty, small and simple, lies right at my feet to see.
In such a quiet and mundane moment, I was more than happy.
Looking back, that did indeed match how I felt after almost every weekly walk, and I can safely say that since that awful night, my temperament, work ethic, and focus have greatly improved long term since implementing this habit.
Perhaps, the path to my own happiness was not as complicated as I thought.
All I had to do was go outside.
