There was a large tree in the woods behind my parents’ house. It rose above the other trees and was my favorite. There were summer days before dusk when I would retreat to that tree.
I’d scale its branches to the top, looking out over a canopy of foliage. I’d close my eyes and listen to the breeze dance through the leaves. Sitting securely in my wooded loft, I’d feel the tree gently sway back and forth. It was so calm and peaceful.
One time, I was beside the tree when a doe emerged out of the brush. She slowly came towards me. I stood motionless beside the tree trunk, knowing that any movement would startle her.
The doe walked within a yard of me, stopping to sniff and flit her large ears back and forth. Surely she caught my scent, but didn’t scare. Perhaps she sensed my benevolent heart.
The encounter was exhilarating. It made me feel so alive.
Stand by me
I was reminded of that moment later in life, when I saw the movie Stand By Me. The film is a moving, coming of age story based on Stephen King’s novella The Body.
There’s a scene in the movie when one of the boys, named Gordie, is apart from his friends. Gordie encounters a doe that crosses by him on some railroad tracks. Watch this brief scene below.
Gordie decides not to tell his companions about the deer he saw. A creative boy, he realizes the others will not understand or entirely appreciate what he felt. It’s a beautiful scene in the movie and one I relate to from my own deer encounter.
Experiencing such close proximity with nature touches you. It’s not really the call of the wild so much as a whisper. Something on a deep, primal nature glides serenely into your presence.
It’s like all the energy and mystery of life takes a moment to greet you. To remind you that there’s so much more than what’s presently in your head.
There’s so much beauty and hopefulness out there, if we only slow down enough to see it. To experience it.
Soon we’re back at it
In this technological age of smart phones, computers, travel and rushing about, it’s easy to disconnect from nature. We are seduced by bright screens.
We zone out to talking heads on the evening news. We attend weekend wine parties to gossip and parrot political talking points.
We might book a vacation on some caribbean beach, play in the water and feel the sand. But soon we’re back at it. Making appointments, answering texts, getting ahead.
Deep down, our hearts grow weary.
There’s nothing wrong with making a living. There’s a lot of satisfaction in being ambitious and realizing the fruit of your labors.
Some question the whole work/life balance thing as a hoax. They say it’s “just life.” Don’t try to bifurcate it. It will just stress you out. Work and play as you please.
I disagree. I think it’s important to unplug. To make time for nature. For fresh air and quiet reflection.
Do yourself a favor and watch the movie Phenomenon, starring John Travolta and Robert Duvall. Travolta plays a small town auto mechanic named George Malley.
In the film, something happens to George Malley that makes him a genius with telekinetic powers. The film explores the untapped power of the human mind, as well as the notion that all living things are somehow connected.
Reference is made in the movie to the largest living organism on the planet. Whales come to mind, but actually it’s an aspen grove in Colorado.
The movie alludes to an eastern notion that we are all connected in some cosmic way. In one scene, George Malley explains to two children:
“Everything is on its way to somewhere…everything.”
Other scenes in the film show trees gently swaying in the breeze, invoking a peaceful sort of serenity. Much like I felt in the trees behind my parent’s home.
I mention the movie Phenomenon, and my own treetop experiences, because I think there’s something to this. I’ve felt it above the cliffs of Carmel, and while painting the cottonwoods in Idaho.
Whenever I escape the trappings of modernity and get outdoors in nature, I begin to relax. I slowly start to feel a peaceful calm permeate my being. Time slows down. It seems to nourish my soul and restore my spirit.
The whisper of innocence
When we look at a baby deer or newborn child, we see their innocence. Their promise. Their perfection. Before all the bumps, bruises and scars of life.
Retreating back into nature is like hiking back to a time of innocence. Maybe the perfection of nature reminds us of our own divine perfection? Beneath the layers of life’s unwanted incursions, disappointments, pain and suffering.
Perhaps the fresh air, grand mountains and windswept shorelines recalibrate our spirit and tease out a bit of our better selves?
I think the call of the wild is really the whisper of innocence. Calling us home. To a place so far away and yet so familiar. To a feeling that comforts us, like a warm blanket.
“Keep close to Nature’s heart… and break clear away, once in awhile, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean.” — John Muir
A simple investment
I need to make more time for this. I need to pack my paintbox, a few supplies and go. Drive down the coast and hike into some hidden grove. Commune for awhile with the birds, squirrels, trees and grandeur of nature.
I need to make it more of a priority, this simple outdoor gift that life has bestowed upon us. And my hope is that these words will inspire you, too.
Maybe this is what’s missing in your life? Maybe it’s time to reclaim your relationship with the outdoors. Your dance with nature.
Wherever you are in your life, get outside and restore your spirit. It’s a simple investment that costs nothing but time.
I’ll wager it will pay dividends in your life. Dividends that will heal your weary heart, renew your passion for life, and reacquaint you with the person you always dreamed of becoming.
Before you go
I’m John P. Weiss. I paint, draw cartoons and write about life. Because I took the leap and changed my career. Thanks for reading!
This article first appeared on Medium.