Rising Rooted

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We know, on some level, that being in nature helps.

There’s research to support it. We’ve felt it ourselves—those moments where something softens, where the noise quiets just enough. And still, it’s often the first thing to disappear when life gets full.

Not because it doesn’t matter. But because somewhere along the way, we lost how to be in relationship with it.

Nature became something we visit. Something we pass through. Something we’re told is “good for us,” but not something we actively relate to.

This is where something essential gets missed.

What Got Lost Along the Way

As children, many of us knew how to be with the natural world. We played. We explored. We followed curiosity without needing a reason.

But adulthood tends to reorganize us around productivity, efficiency, and outcome. Even our attempts at “self-care” can start to feel structured, optimized—something to do right.

And in that shift, we often lose:

• play
• curiosity
• and the sense that we are part of something living, not separate from it

Nature becomes a backdrop instead of a relationship.

Remembering Nature Through Play

What I’m pointing to here isn’t just “spending time outside.” It’s something closer to nature play.

Not in a childish sense—but in a relational one.

Letting yourself:

• wander without a clear goal
• follow what catches your attention
• interact, not just observe

This might look like:

• noticing a particular tree and returning to it over time
• following a colour or texture through a landscape
• sitting beside water and tracking how your body responds
• picking something up, turning it over, getting curious about it

Not to achieve anything. Just to be in contact.

A Somatic Pause

Before going further, take a moment.

Let your eyes move around the space you’re in.

Notice something that feels neutral or steady: a colour, a shape, a patch of light.

Now, gently bring your attention to your body.

Where do you feel contact? Where do you feel held, even slightly?

And then widen your awareness again. Air. Sound. Space.

You’re not just in your body.

You’re in an environment.

Let yourself register that.

Examples of Nature Play (That Aren’t About Doing It “Right”)

If you’re not sure where to begin, here are a few ways in:

• Follow a thread: Choose something—colour, sound, movement—and let it guide your attention as you move.
• Sit with a question: Bring something you’ve been thinking about, and notice what the environment reflects back—not as answers, but as associations.
• Build something small: Stack stones, arrange leaves, draw shapes in the dirt. Not for outcome, but for interaction.
• Return to the same place: Let familiarity build. Notice what changes, and what doesn’t.
• Mirror your inner state: Notice what in the landscape feels similar to how you feel—and what feels different.

None of this needs to be named as spiritual, or therapeutic, or anything at all.

But something shifts when you move from observation → relationship.

An Eco Ritual: A Simple Way to Begin

If you want a bit more structure, you might try this:

1. Set an intention

It can be simple:

“I want to understand this feeling.”

“I want to feel a bit more settled.”

2. Enter the experience

Go somewhere accessible.

Let yourself move slowly.

Follow what draws you, without forcing meaning.

3. Reflect

Afterwards, write or speak about what you noticed:

• what stood out
• what shifted
• what surprised you

If it feels supportive, this is something you can bring into therapy or share with someone you trust.

This is where the experience becomes integrated—not just felt, but understood in context.

When This Work Deepens

While these practices are accessible, they can also open into deeper material.

This is where working with a therapist can be helpful.

Not to interpret nature for you—but to:

• support what arises
• help you track patterns over time
• and stay grounded if something feels bigger than expected

Nature becomes part of the relational field—not a replacement for it.

This Isn’t New

It’s also important to name: This way of relating to land isn’t new.

Indigenous cultures have long understood the natural world as alive, relational, and reciprocal. Colonization disrupted these relationships—disconnecting people from land, from cultural practices, and from ways of knowing that were never meant to be separated from daily life.

So when we speak about ecotherapy or nature-based healing now, we’re not discovering something new.

We are, in many ways, remembering. And that remembering comes with responsibility: to engage respectfully, to stay aware of context, and to continue learning.

A Different Kind of Care

Nature play isn’t about escaping your life. It’s about re-entering it differently.

More aware of your body. More connected to your environment. More able to notice what supports you—and what doesn’t.

Over time, this builds something subtle but powerful: a sense that you are not alone in your experience, that you are part of something living, that healing doesn’t only happen inside your mind.

The Invitation

You don’t need a perfect practice. You don’t need the right setting. You don’t even need to feel particularly connected at first.

Just this: At some point, you pause long enough to notice that you are already in relationship with something living.

And from there— you decide whether you want to stay distant… or begin responding.

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If this spoke to something in you, there are a few paths you can follow from here:

Each door leads somewhere different. It is my hope that all of them lead back to you.

<3 Rachel