Young Wisdom: How To Be A More Humble, Admirable Funhog

Imagine your favorite natural place—maybe it’s a park like Yellowstone or Acadia, or maybe it’s just a patch of woods behind your apartment—and imagine the protective feelings you have toward it. Think about the anger that you feel when you read that oil or mining interests are threatening your favorite place. It’s pretty special to you, isn’t it? 

Now imagine that your favorite place was suddenly closed, that the government was banning all access immediately for the health of the ecosystem. You can no longer appreciate the views and sun, no longer take hikes into the shade, or do a number of other, wilder action sports that you might be into. All the wellness benefits that this place holds are now no longer accessible to you. Is this place still your favorite? Is it still worth protecting? Is it still valuable?

If you think this scenario is too theoretical, let me hit you with a story. In Montana, mountain biking is a popular activity. Lots of folks like to get out into the woods and pedal their bikes up a ridge, over rocks and roots, and through clear streams and muddy holes until sweat drips down into their eyebrows and they gasp from the thinness of the mountain air. They then proceed to turn around and hurl themselves back downhill to feel the rushing air and thrill others as they tear back into the parking lot in a cloud of dust.

I love mountain biking. It’s a weird obsession, but the combination of closeness to nature and an athletic challenge appeals to my sense of fun. Nothing compares to the feeling of slashing through a turn, or throwing shapes in the air. Right now, some of you are probably nodding, thinking about how it feels when you get something just right in your own sport. 

Some of you probably also see some problems. Tearing through the woods has a real environmental impact that can be measured in displaced wildlife and reduced water quality. Also, just being in nature is not synonymous with appreciating nature and a number of mountain bikers come away from their time outside without noticing the calming beauty around them and no desire to preserve the earth. 

In fact, many begin to advocate for more trails, more bike parks, and more access, with some mountain bike groups even launching legal efforts to strip public Wilderness of conservation protections that keep bikes out.

For many of us, the answer seems obvious. The earth is worth caring about simply because it exists; it’s not a commodity that we can convert to dollar signs and utility, but something sacred that has intrinsic value just because it’s there. 

This isn’t a new idea. It’s a cornerstone of many eastern and Native American beliefs and also a key piece of modern conservation movements. When enough people act with respect for nature we can balance our material needs with the needs of the environment and enjoy our world without compromising it for the next generation. In the same way that a relationship built on respect outlives one where the couple use each other, we can live and die happier by appreciating our surroundings independent of what they can do for us.

I understand that these ‘just do the right thing’ sentiments might betray my privilege, but I’m not trying to take on the issue of how civilization can live more sustainably—not today at least. Instead, I just want to talk about enjoying nature. It’s easy to recreate outside, but it’s hard to feel appreciative, thankful, and humble while doing so. I think that these feelings really make life worth living. They make being outside— whether that’s in a garden or a wilderness area—a religious experience and they put the universe into perspective so that when we step back inside we can be kinder, more productive people.

There are, obviously, many benefits of of outdoor recreation. Outdoor recreation fulfills a few major human needs. It’s easy to understand how exercise keeps us healthy both mentally and physically. It’s also clear that lots of outdoor activities are fun diversions that serve as entertainment, but the common understanding stops here. There are a few other, even more impactful reasons I think outdoor recreation is important. Let’s go through each in turn:

A snowy suburban street at night, a gravel running path through flowers, and a jagged mountain peak all share a certain kind of beauty. This is easiest defined as happy imperfection — things existing in a disorganized state that is somehow harmonious, like the thousands of flawed snowflakes which combine in jagged disarray to form a perfectly uniform drift. This is the kind of beauty that heals us from the perfectionism and confusion of life. It reminds us that a little imperfection is ok because we too can have beauty. There are real physical and mental health benefits to appreciating nature’s disorder including better self esteem and physical wellbeing according to a 2019 study published in the journal Nature.

The photo Earthrise awakens many people to a grander perspective. It diminishes our achievements and our fears, and reminds us what is really important. Although we can’t see an earthrise every morning, the outdoors can have the same positive effect. This is especially important for people who face mental illnesses including depression and anxiety or otherwise experience dissociation from their surroundings. There is solace in nature. It has reminded me of the grander perspective when I’ve needed it the most.

Remembering that we don’t deserve to recreate all the time and that we respect the earth for good reason helps cut down on the negative impacts of our activities. We know that building a new trail is an act that can never be erased from the landscape. Remembering that the landscape is more important than getting in a few sick turns helps us decide whether expanding our footprint is really worth the cost. Thinking and acting with respect for nature can significantly slow the recreation economy’s growing footprint.

Now let me present some tips for how to truly connect with the outdoors. 

Notice Growth and Death—The Buddhist practice of mindfulness helps people make the most of their time alive by contemplating death. Practice this when outside. Notice the insubstantial way that your clothes block the biting cold in winter. Observe the crushing power of a river or the way new shoots are poking through the dirt after a terrible wildfire. Think about how lucky you are to be alive and how beautiful life is. It’s both terrifying and comforting to realize we’re all just a part of the cycle.

Stay Present—This is the hardest and most important part of enjoying nature to its fullest. You must let go of your responsibilities and worries, even that email you’re mentally drafting to Sharon. All your focus has to be in the here and now. Any anxieties will block your enjoyment of the present and your ability to observe the beauty of nature, just like worry spoils other types of quality time. This takes practice and I’ve never met anyone who has the skill truly mastered.

These points are just a few shortcuts for connecting to the earth in a meaningful way, but there isn’t one right path to feel nature. Do what feels right. However, It’s important to remember that recreation leaves scars on the environment just like mining or logging. Each year water is muddied, wildlife is displaced, and carbon is emitted by the growing number of recreationalists. 

Given this fact, it’s easy to cut off your connection to nature and stay inside or deny these impacts entirely. However, I think that by being mindful of the difference between being in nature and truly appreciating nature we can use recreation to keep our relationship with the planet strong and healthy all while minimizing our impact.

NOTE from Calvin Servheen and MoJo: If any of you have your own strategies for appreciating nature through outdoor recreation, let us know in the comments. Email them by clicking here.  Make sure you never miss a MoJo story by signing up for our free weekly newsletter. Click here: https://bit.ly/3cYVBtK