Healing by Nature, Nurture, and the Eternal Now
Nature as My Recent Healer
The recent past has been an interesting stretch of time. My footprints have shrunk to mere centimeters apart on this section of my life’s path, marking slow (yet intentional) progress. Thorny, overgrown weeds are whipping my legs from the perimeters. The lush vegetation of the forest, which is rightfully provided by nature as nourishment, has taken on the appearance of poison. There is turbulence toiling in the skies above and the well within, presenting new challenges by the minute.
Yet no matter how great the storm, it cannot be sustained forever. Blasts of combustible energy, the tantrums of a child, and tsunami waves all crest and wane. So too have my recent experiences.
Despite the darkness, there have been many glittering lanterns along this path. Among them are dozens of beautiful beings with soul-stirring stories, each of whom embodies a unique zest for life beyond their battles. Licensed guides tenderly take my hand and remain beside me as I re-find the will to walk. The messages I need come in perfect time, whether by reading a book, putting pen to paper, or tuning into the birdsong instead of music on morning walks.
The latter alludes to one of the most profound healers on this journey. Normally I dwell in the Pacific Northwest, where the sodden earth and chilly maritime air dissuade much outdoor activity. My temporary environment, however, is abundant with opportunities to commune with nature.
These experiences have been so rich that I’m inspired to share the landscapes I’ve captured with the wider world… and some personal reflections, too.

My Decreed, and Necessary, Digital Detox
One great, unforeseen blessing of this era is being without a mobile device. This decreed hiatus from the digital world has prompted me to be more present with myself, peers, nature, creativity, and the healing process altogether.
Better yet, the hiatus acts as a silent, stealthy katana, cutting through the chaotic entanglements of information. As such, I’m at least one degree removed from social media, news headlines, and the constant bombardment of emails, texts, and notifications… not to mention the newer floods of artificial content being cranked out by AI.
For as stormy as my mind-space has been, this clearing of digital clutter has been transformative. Over the past month, I’ve had the mental freedom to engage with writing, reading, journaling, nature walks, yoga, and even a little bit of art. The result has been a slower, richer pace of life, where my connection to the world feels more grounded and inspiration comes in firework bursts.
Of course the rest of the world rushes on in its usual fashion. My daily rush-hour commutes carry enough reminders of that. But I have also been afforded the space to step back, to watch the milieu of humanity without getting caught up in its mishaps.

Leaning into Intentionality
With global communication networks and the takeover of AI, it feels like presence, intentionality, and creativeness are becoming lost forms of art. We are creatures of efficiency; it makes objective sense for us to gravitate towards the innovations that cut down on mental and physical effort.
However, it’s also been disheartening. Whenever I log onto a social media site, for instance, I’m inundated with AI-doctored posts. Every variety of content, from recipe blogs to news articles and video reels to advertisements, is touched by generative intelligence.
Tangible forms of expression are not barred from exception, either. We’re All F*cked is a musical entity cranking out inhuman music. Sellers of AI art are snatching the spotlight from handcrafters and artisans at makers markets. I’ve even encountered friends and coworkers who outsource their communications, rarely sinking in to write a message from their own heart or mind.
I recently listened to a podcast episode that reminded me of just how tyrannical this technology is for local communities and global resources—all for rapidfire responses and the means to make big bucks. With how exponentially our demand is growing, we may face harrowing social, financial, and environmental consequences for its use.
The podcast, and my recent ponderings, were enough for me to swear off whatever I can in the name of ecological, mental, and spiritual harmony.

Love, Nature, and the Eternal Now
As I removed my headphones, I came back into my own head. The clarity of perception flooded back, and I permitted myself to feel the awe of a child.
What I found was a mesmerizing, effortless playstage of life. Lizards were posing on jagged rocks and wooden benches. Bees were flitting between a rainbowy palette of flowers. Rabbits were nibbling happily on their grasses. The sun was bathing the landscape in its unconditional light.
And I, Annette, was a quintessential part of that moment. I was the sneakered being who was leaving prints on the sandy trail and occasionally embracing the trees. The mountains were as present as I was, with energy so poised as to provide the ground beneath my feet.
When I found an alcove with a tree swing, there wasn’t a second thought, nothing to decide. The natural Self climbed onto the swing and swung with all Her might. And I, as the observer, smiled in unbridled delight.
The whole thing was love. Love, love, love, love, love.

Nature, the Unspoken Healer
There have been more instances like that, where I’ve been so keenly tuned into the moment that I heard nature’s gentle beckoning.
“Come,” it seems to say. “Let healing happen.” → (I was inclined to write let me heal you, but there’s truly no difference between ‘me’ and ‘you,’ is there?)
Once, I had just emerged from a cactus garden when I found a bench overlooking a city- and mountain-scape. It’s rare for me to take a rest, because I’ve long held the erroneous association that relaxation means resignation.
That time after the cactus garden, however, I felt one of nature’s nudges. It had been an emotionally heavy day, and I was admittedly burnt out. So I laid on the bench, closed my eyes, and let the sun bathe me in light, energy, and love. It wasn’t a magical cure for my woes, but I got up feeling newly inspired, which led to a second wave that opened me to engaging with the rest of the day.
So much of my battery has been maintained by disconnecting from “the world” and reconnecting with the eternal present.

Surrendering to the Intentions of My Lessons
This approach to existence is deceivingly simple, of course. That’s why it has felt impossible to access 100% of the time. The fact that I still waver between the two worlds indicates there are blockages in my heart and mind that must be worked through, lessons to be understood.
It’s devastating when the conditioned mind ‘pulls a fast one’ and dupes me back into games of competition, comparison, and resentment. When that happens, I’m at odds with a nervous system that’s very much activated, convinced it’s in danger. Thus the mental quicksand sucks me into thinking the sky is black when indeed, the ever-blue sky is only obscured by clouds.
Even so, I’m learning better how to nurture and transform fear. To foster the grace of everlasting truth. To remain in, but not of, the world.

A Final Word of Gratitude
Countless writings and philosophies teach that reality lies beyond suffering. Each of our life-paths are curated to help us transcend the countless illusions stating otherwise.
As I clack away on this keyboard, reflecting on whatever point I was trying to make, I find myself grateful for the trials that headlined this post. Those trials, coupled with the mandated extraction from digital media, have provided pristine fodder for my growth. For if nothing else, I’m coming to see just how much of this world is make-believe.
And eventually, for me, that will mean being able to eat a dish of ice cream without a second thought.
What a blessing.
⋆.ೃ࿔ :・⚝⭑

