I live in the heart of the city, and although our neighborhood is usually very quiet, there is still that frenetic energy in my surroundings that is found in all urban areas. Sometimes, I can’t decide how busy and busy my daily life is and my bright, noisy life until I go somewhere really far away — a hike on the wild north shore of Lake Superior, or a cabin where the night sky is really dark and the loudest thing is the birdsong.
But even here in my city, I am lucky enough to have easy access to abundant green spaces. There are three lakes within walking distance, along with state parks, miles of walking and biking trails, and even a bird sanctuary. It’s an embarrassment of riches that I’m grateful for on a daily basis.
Every time I go out—to a nearby park, or to my backyard, or even to a little strip of green between the buildings—something changes. My shoulders drop, and my breathing deepens. This thing that was on my mind a moment ago seems less urgent. It didn’t go away, but it became quieter. This shift is rarely dramatic, but just a nice sign that it’s okay to slow down and let down my defenses.
Nothing has changed regarding my external circumstances. Things in my life and in the world are still messy and… anxiety-production. I still have little piles of sadness, resentment, obligations, and anxiety in the dusty corners of my mind and heart. Being human is still going on.
However, I know that the experience I have when I go out is not just a nice feeling. There is something subtle but real happening in my mind and body. And although the mind/body/heart definition is always a bit contrived — we are always whole beings with all these diverse physical and emotional experiences — a growing body of research says: What happens in these natural spaces is worthwhile. interest to.
What happens in your body
When we talk about nature being soothing, we’re not just talking poetically. When we take time to walk or sit in the natural world, it actually reduces our stress hormones in real time.
In 2019 He studies Published in Frontiers in psychologyresearchers tracked urban residents over eight weeks and found that nature experience produced 21.3% Every hour A decrease in cortisol levels, with the most concentrated benefits occurring between 20 and 30 minutes outside. A 2025 Meta-analysis Across 78 studies confirmed this pattern: exposure to green space decreased salivary cortisol by 21% and salivary amylase by 28%, which is a fancy way of saying that even our spit provides evidence of a significant reduction in the body’s stress response.
Going outside for half an hour is perhaps one of the most underrated preparations for meditation.
Salivary amylase is a sign of activation of the sympathetic nervous system, the same fight-or-flight wiring that becomes overworked when we’re anxious, stressed, fearful of death (I know I’m not alone, right?), or simply living in the modern world.
When it decreases, the body shifts toward a feeling of safety and comfort. It settles into the very state that meditation practitioners spend years learning how to reach.
What if going outside for half an hour is one of the most underrated preparations for meditation?
What’s happening in your heart?
There’s something else that nature does, which is a little harder to measure but no less real: it stops us in our tracks. It makes us feel small, but in a more expansive way.
Scholars (and poets and mystics) call this “Awe“, and natural environments are among their most reliable stimuli. In a fascinating one He studiesstudents who spent just one minute looking at a group of tall eucalyptus trees showed significant increases in awe and significantly more generous and helpful behavior than those who looked at a building. Imagine the consequences then Sixty seconds to Looking at the trees It makes us kinder and more generous towards others.
Awe is a way of feeling small and deeply alive, because part of awe is also a feeling of being held and connected to something bigger, more beautiful, and collective.
We generally don’t like to feel small, and much of our current state of constant agitation comes from steeling ourselves against the fear and defensiveness that arises in us when we feel pressured by larger, more aggressive forces that seem to be bearing down on us. He wants To feel unimportant.
Awe is a way of feeling small, and it is also deeply enlivening, because part of awe is also a feeling of retention and connection to something bigger, more beautiful, and more communal. A group of Astronauts On the last Artemis II mission, they talked about this often and openly, and their shared sense of wonder magnetically attracted millions of followers. They provide living proof that there is something bigger than this moment of conflict. This feeling of connectedness they describe — the reality of our interconnectedness, which I think we’re all so thirsty to feel and believe again — is calmer and more real than the screaming comment sections on social media that constantly scream at us about how disconnected and broken we all are.
The sterility and fragmentation of modern life tends to deprive us of these basic human experiences of awe and wonder, and the natural world tends to renew them.
The paradox of dread, surrender, and the beginner’s mind
What the research has found is something meditators have long pointed out: a loosening of the ego, an alleviation of that overwhelming sense that we have to be the center of everything in order to feel okay. In meditation, this abandonment of our need to feel special and intelligent is a quality we sometimes call “beginner’s mind.” It’s a place where it’s okay to admit that we don’t know a whole bunch of things, maybe most things, and it’s also okay that we don’t know.
Yes, life is serious sometimes, but often not in the ways we imagine. Meditation is, in part, a way to gently remind ourselves that we don’t have to accept this ourselves So dang seriously all the time.
As a poet Mary Oliver While watching a gathering of goldfinches, he wrote:
...It’s dangerous
Just to be alive
On this refreshing morning
In the broken world.
I beg you,
Don’t walk
Without stopping
To attend this…
The great irony, of course, is that in that moment of surrender, we actually open ourselves to a new set of possibilities that our certainty and our desperate need to feel big tend to keep us from. “I don’t know” becomes the gateway to wisdom, and “I don’t have to be special by the world’s standards” becomes a way to access a sense of true belonging and unconditional love, even in our imperfections.
Meditation can help unleash expansive and subtle states of surrender. It turns out that a canopy of trees, a wide-open field, or the shimmering quality of late afternoon light through foliage can take us there too.
Meditation can help unleash expansive and subtle states of surrender. It turns out that a canopy of trees, a wide-open field, or the shimmering quality of late afternoon light through foliage can take us there too.
What’s going on in your mind?
If you’ve ever tried to meditate after a long day in front of the computer and found your mind spinning, there’s a reason for that — and spending some time in green spaces can help with that, too.
Attention recovery theory It is suggested that mental fatigue and concentration can be improved through time spent in green spaces or even just looking at them. He points out that natural environments encourage more effort brain A function, allowing the directed attention to rest and replenish itself. Our focused, diligent attention—the kind we use to meet deadlines, manage inboxes, and navigate difficult conversations—is a finite resource. They are exhausted. Ordinary urban environments, with their constant demands and stimulation, continue to tap into that well.
Natural environments elicit what researchers call “Soft magic.“Isn’t that a wonderful statement? This is a nice, easy form of attention, similar to mind-wandering but still outward-directed. It allows our directed attention to rest while the mind quietly restores itself. Think of what your whole being feels when you watch a drifting cloud or notice the way the wind ripples a field of wild grasses, or what happens when you sit and listen to the sound of a raindrop falling into a lake. These things require nothing more than they simply invite us into presence, and that, of course, is the point.”
A nice call to green space
The research is compelling, but I know you don’t need a study to tell you how you might actually feel. Nature gives us something back. It slows us down, opens us up, and reminds us that we are part of something much larger than the ever-changing contents of our minds.
Whether it’s a 20-minute walk before sitting down in the morning, a lunch break in the park, or just pausing to observe a patch of sky, time outside is time well spent. It provides a balm to your nervous system, nurtures your sense of wonder, and encourages the calm, open awareness that lies at the heart of our practice.
