Nature's Medicine Is Right Outside Your Door
The healing power of connection to other living things.
Updated July 21, 2025 | Reviewed by Jessica Schrader
This post was authored by Bridget A. Lyons , a writer, editor, and explorer whose book, Entwined: Dispatches from the Intersection of Species , was published this month.
It’s a typical day at my computer. I’ve been steadily attacking my inbox in the minutes squeezed between Zoom meetings. I’ve answered a couple calls, resolved a software glitch, and rewritten a document. Though I’m supposedly a “creative,” I’ve come to spend more than half of my waking hours staring at a glowing 15-inch screen. When I do a body scan, I notice my breathing is shallow, my lower back is sore, and I’m clenching my teeth. When I do a mind scan, I detect some toxic self-talk and more than a trace of negativity.
I know what these symptoms mean: I’ve got a bad case of disconnection—from myself, yes, but also from the larger world and the myriad living things I share it with. Luckily, I know the cure for this pernicious mental health condition. It’s time to go on an other-than-human appreciation mission.
I walk down the stairs and out of my condo complex, beckoned by the giant Norfolk Island pine tree that towers over the building. “Hello, my friend,” I say to this stately 120-year-old companion who stands guard over my unit. I see this tree every day, but I try to look at it with fresh eyes, admiring the way its branches turn up at the tips and the way its needles curl like outstretched fingers towards the sky.
At the sidewalk, I turn to head towards the beach. Along the way, I run my hands over a rosemary bush, bring my fingers up to my nose and inhale deeply, savoring the spicy scent . The sound of barking sea lions pierces the din of traffic and makes me smile. I don’t have the time today to walk to the wharf where they congregate, but I like being reminded that there are dozens of playful pinnipeds out there swimming, hunting, and basking in the sun.
When I get to the water, I see that multiple species of seaweed are piled up along the tide line, making mounds that many people find unsightly. But when I pull a strand of giant kelp— Macrocystis —out of the tangle, all I see is beauty. The intricate wavy pattern on its brownish-green blades (the leaf-like parts) commands my attention completely.
Within minutes, my reality has shifted. My jaw and spine have relaxed, my respirations have slowed, and the looping thoughts about my to-do list have evaporated. Most importantly, I’ve arrested the downward spiral I can so easily fall into, the one that tells me that I’m not keeping up, that I’m not enough, that I’m never going to have the time to “just be.” I am “just being” in this moment. All it took to get there was noticing and appreciating other creatures.
As a species, we have invested enormous effort into separating ourselves from what we call “the natural world.” We’ve constructed climate-controlled buildings that seal us off from it, invented cars that whisk us through it, and developed technologies that enable us to get the calories we need without ever touching a plant or animal.
But we can’t separate ourselves from the natural world because we are part of it . We evolved with it and in it. Our fates are intertwined with those of every other living creature on Earth.
Not surprisingly, then, recognizing and engaging in this connection is good for our mental health. In a review of 150 articles published on the links between human health and exposure to nature, medical researchers Marcia Jimenez et al. “found evidence for associations between nature exposure and improved cognitive function, brain activity, blood pressure, mental health, physical activity, and sleep.” [BL1] The popularity of activities like “ forest bathing ” and “ecotherapy” support this association.
And then there’s the empirical evidence that you’ve no doubt collected throughout your own life—the peace you felt watching the cardinals at your bird feeder, the instant grounding you sensed walking barefoot over a carpet of moss, the elation you experienced when you watched whales spout from the deck of a boat.
In writing Entwined , my recent book of essays about encounters with other-than-human creatures, I became further convinced that every single living thing can be a source of wonder. I could have written about any of them—from manta rays and mosquitoes to mushrooms and mussels—because every single one has solved the challenges of life on our planet in different creative and interesting ways. And, while a little natural history research certainly doesn’t hurt, so much can be gained by simply taking the time to notice and appreciate the potted plant in your window or the snail on your doorstep.
Imagine what might happen if we all did this more often. When you have a relationship with corals, it’s hard to support oceanic mining initiatives. When you think of old growth redwoods as your friends, it’s hard to get behind officials who want to clearcut them. When you find pleasure in watching pronghorn antelope run across the high plains, it’s hard to allow their habitat to be torn up by a fracking project. If enough of us shift into a state of greater connection with all of life, we can collectively shift the trajectory of our linked biodiversity and climate crises.
And, in the process, we can help ourselves to live happier, richer lives. Who doesn’t want that? As science writer Ed Yong says in his fabulous book, An Immense World , “When we pay attention to other animals, our own world expands and deepens.”
All we have to do is look around and notice them.
[BL1] https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC8125471/
Share this post Facebook Bluesky Linkedin Email
There was a problem adding your email address. Please try again.
By submitting your information you agree to the Psychology Today Terms & Conditions and Privacy Policy
Ariella Cook-Shonkoff, MFT, is a licensed psychotherapist and registered art therapist based in the San Francisco Bay Area.
Get the help you need from a therapist near you–a FREE service from Psychology Today.
This article is part of the Bringwise Psychology Journal — daily insights on human behavior, mental health, and personal growth.