I’m good at giving advice, telling people to get outside, but I need to be more out in nature myself. I’ve got a good few spots here in San Francisco, though, where I can sit under a tree and be with my own thoughts. I can write, read, listen to the sounds, feel the sun on my face. I am surrounded by air rich in oxygen, the soft ground under me and the sweet sound of birds.
I met a woman once who told her story of illness. Her lungs were self-destructing, and she hadn’t responded to medication or any other treatments. She decided to “surrender,” whatever that meant, and traveled to the forest, lived there. She expected to die and wanted to be in nature. The funny thing was, though, she didn’t die. She kept waiting, but after a few months, she was still alive. Eventually she made her way back to her doctor, and to her surprise and the surprise of her doctor, her chest x-rays were normal.
What does this mean? I have no idea. But it gives me hope.
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