The Nature of Belonging: What Neuroscience Reveals About Our Connection to the Earth

We talk a lot about connection in therapy. Our relationships, our attachment to others, and our need to feel understood and accepted. We know that belonging is fundamental to our mental health, but I wonder if we've made our understanding of connection too narrow.

What about our relationship with the natural world?

We often think of nature as somewhere we go to escape our everyday lives. We take trips to the mountains, go on walks to clear our heads, or spend time outside when we're feeling overwhelmed. But nature isn't something separate from us. It's the very thing that makes our existence possible.

And as it turns out, our brains seem to benefit from spending time in it, too.

What Happens to Our Brains in Nature?

Think about how much information your brain processes in a single day. Between work, conversations, screens, traffic, and the seemingly endless demands on our attention, it's no wonder so many of us feel mentally exhausted.

Our brains evolved in natural environments, long before the constant stimulation of modern life. And while we've adapted to the world we've created, our surroundings still influence how we experience stress and direct our attention.

In a 2022 study, researchers found that a one-hour walk through a forest was followed by reduced activity in the amygdala, a region of the brain involved in processing potential threats and stress.

This doesn't mean spending time outside will eliminate anxiety, or that we need access to a forest to experience the benefits of nature. But it does suggest that our environments can influence how our brains respond to stress.

Nature may also help with something many of us struggle with: the feeling that our minds are constantly working. Throughout the day, we're making decisions, solving problems, and filtering out distractions. Research suggests that spending time in natural environments can help restore certain aspects of our attention.

Consider the difference between concentrating on a computer screen and watching leaves move in the wind or listening to running water. One requires sustained effort, while the other can hold our attention without demanding quite so much of it.

And for those of us who struggle with overthinking, there's another interesting finding. A 2015 study found that participants who walked in a natural environment for 90 minutes reported less rumination, or repetitive negative thinking, compared with those who walked in an urban setting.

What I find interesting about these studies is how much our surroundings matter. We often focus on changing our thoughts, managing our emotions, or developing better coping skills without considering the environments in which we're trying to do those things.

But I also think there's something worth questioning about how we talk about these benefits.

We often approach nature the same way we approach other aspects of our health: How much time do I need to spend outside to feel better? How many minutes will reduce my stress? How can I fit it into my already busy schedule?

There's nothing wrong with wanting to feel better. But I wonder if, in our effort to make everything useful and efficient, we've started treating nature as another tool for self-improvement rather than something we're already part of.

Our relationship with the natural world is about more than what we can get out of it.

Mindfulness: Learning to Pay Attention Again

One of the things I frequently explore with clients is mindfulness, which is often misunderstood as clearing your mind or trying to feel calm. In reality, mindfulness is about paying attention to the present moment with curiosity rather than judgment.

When we're anxious, our minds tend to jump ahead to what might happen next. When we're ruminating, we can get caught replaying the past. Mindfulness helps us recognize these patterns without getting caught up in them and gently return our attention to the present.

And nature gives us so much to notice.

The sound of birds, the temperature of the air, sunlight through the trees, or the subtle changes that come with each season. These everyday experiences offer opportunities to practice being present without needing to accomplish anything.

In therapy, we often practice this through grounding exercises and sensory awareness. But mindfulness can offer something beyond managing uncomfortable emotions. The more we pay attention to the natural world, the more familiar we become with it, and perhaps the more connected we begin to feel to the places we live.

Finding Nature in Everyday Life

Living in Denver, Colorado, we're fortunate to have the Rocky Mountains nearby. Many people move here for that very reason, drawn to opportunities to hike, camp, ski, snowboard, and spend more time outdoors.

And while I think that's wonderful, I also think it's easy to associate having a relationship with nature with being an outdoorsy person.

But what if you don't enjoy hiking or camping? Or don't have the time, money, or physical ability to participate in those activities?

That doesn't mean nature has to be any less meaningful to you.

We sometimes overlook how much of the natural world exists right outside our doors. The trees lining our streets, birds outside our windows, plants growing in our homes, and even the wildlife that has adapted to living alongside us in the city.

You don't need to drive into the mountains to experience nature. You can take a walk through your neighborhood, spend time in a local park, tend to a garden, or learn the names of the trees and plants you pass regularly.

I think there's something meaningful about becoming familiar with the living things that share our everyday spaces. When we begin to recognize them, we may also start to feel more connected to the places we live.

Nature doesn't have to be somewhere we travel to. It's already part of our everyday lives.

Our Relationship With Nature Across Cultures and Spiritual Traditions

Long before researchers began studying nature's effects on our mental health, people across the world understood their relationship with the natural world through spiritual and cultural traditions.

While these beliefs vary considerably, I find it interesting how often ideas of gratitude, responsibility, and belonging appear across different traditions.

In this article, I want to highlight a few Indigenous teachings, particularly those shared by Robin Wall Kimmerer, a member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation, and Mary Siisip Geniusz, an Anishinaabe educator. Their writing invites us to consider plants, animals, and the earth not simply as resources, but as part of a community of relationships. Kimmerer, for example, explores the Honorable Harvest, teachings that emphasize gratitude, taking only what is needed, and giving back.

Other traditions offer their own perspectives. In Buddhism, the concept of interdependence emphasizes that our existence is shaped by countless conditions and relationships. In Japan's Shinto tradition, certain mountains, forests, rivers, and other natural features are revered as places associated with kami, or sacred presences. And in parts of Ghana, sacred forests have been protected through traditional spiritual practices, including among some Akan communities who associate these places with ancestors or spiritual beings.

These traditions are distinct, but each offers an example of understanding nature as something more than a resource for human use.

I think this raises an interesting question about how we define progress today.

In many aspects of modern society, we've come to prioritize efficiency, productivity, convenience, and economic growth, sometimes at the expense of the environments that sustain us. Industrial and technological advancements have improved our lives in meaningful ways, but they've also made it easier to view nature as something to manage, control, or extract resources from rather than something we exist in relationship with.

We often measure progress by how quickly we can produce and consume, without always considering the long-term consequences. When speed and profit become our primary measures of success, it's easy to overlook the importance of patience, sustainability, and responsibility.

I don't think the answer is to reject modern life or romanticize the past. But I do wonder what we've lost by placing so much emphasis on what the natural world can provide for us, rather than how we might live more thoughtfully within it.

We Are the Dependent Ones

In Braiding Sweetgrass, botanist and author Robin Wall Kimmerer explores our relationship with the natural world through both science and Indigenous ecological knowledge. One of the ideas I appreciate most in her writing is that we are not separate from nature or above it. We are part of it, and that relationship comes with responsibilities.

Anishinaabe educator Mary Siisip Geniusz expresses a similar idea in Plants Have So Much to Give Us, All We Have to Do Is Ask:

“Humans are not the lords of this earth. We are the babies of this family of ours. We are the weakest because we are the most dependent.”

I think this offers an interesting way to reconsider our place in the world.

If humans disappeared, many ecosystems would continue, and some damaged environments might even begin to recover. But consider the opposite. Without the natural systems that provide our oxygen, water, food, and conditions for life, humanity could not survive.

Our dependence on nature is far greater than nature's dependence on us.

Of course, this doesn't mean humans are unimportant to the natural world. Our choices profoundly affect ecosystems, and many landscapes have been cared for through generations of human stewardship. But it challenges the idea that we are somehow independent of the earth or entirely in control of it.

We often think of independence as a sign of strength. We want to be self-sufficient, capable, and in control of our lives. Yet our existence depends on countless relationships and systems outside of ourselves.

Kimmerer offers another way to understand this relationship through the idea of reciprocity. Rather than asking only what nature can provide for us, she encourages us to consider what we give back.

Her teachings about the Honorable Harvest emphasize taking only what we need, avoiding unnecessary harm, expressing gratitude, and caring for the living things that sustain us.

I think this connects to something we've already discussed about mindfulness. When we pay closer attention to the natural world, we may begin to recognize how much we receive from it. And perhaps that awareness can encourage us to become more thoughtful about how we care for it in return.

Our relationship with nature doesn't have to be defined entirely by what we get out of it. It can also be shaped by how we choose to participate in and care for the world we're part of.

Loving a World We're Afraid of Losing

And for those of you who experience anxiety or even existential dread about climate change, environmental destruction, and the ways we collectively treat the natural world, I think there's another important part of this conversation.

The more we pay attention to nature, the more aware we may become of what's happening to it.

It's difficult to learn about rising temperatures, disappearing habitats, and species extinction without feeling sadness, anger, or helplessness, especially when these problems feel much larger than anything we can individually change. These experiences are sometimes described as climate anxiety or ecological grief, and they can reflect how deeply we care about the world around us.

But I don't think the answer is to stop paying attention.

In Braiding Sweetgrass, Robin Wall Kimmerer writes:

“Even a wounded world is feeding us. Even a wounded world holds us, giving us moments of wonder and joy. I choose joy over despair. Not because I have my head in the sand, but because joy is what the earth gives me daily and I must return the gift.”

I appreciate that Kimmerer doesn't ask us to ignore environmental destruction or pretend everything is okay. Instead, she reminds us that grief and gratitude can exist together. We can recognize the harm being done to the natural world while still appreciating its beauty and feeling responsible for its care.

In therapy, we often explore the difference between what we can and cannot control. Climate change can leave us feeling powerless, but recognizing the limits of our individual control doesn't mean we have no influence.

We can participate in local conservation efforts, support environmental protections, care for the spaces around us, and find community with others who share our concerns. These actions won't resolve the crisis on their own, but they can help us respond in ways that align with our values.

And we can still experience joy.

Mindfulness can help us remain present without becoming entirely consumed by fears about the future. We can acknowledge environmental loss while still noticing the changing seasons, the growth of a tree, or the return of birds in the spring.

Caring deeply about the natural world doesn't mean choosing between grief and appreciation. Perhaps it means learning to make room for both.

A Different Way to Think About Connection

I think there's value in expanding the way we understand belonging. We know that our relationships with other people influence our mental health, but perhaps our relationship with the natural world deserves more attention, too.

It's easy to think of nature in terms of what it can offer us, whether that's a sense of calm, improved concentration, or simply somewhere to escape for a while. But belonging to the natural world also means recognizing that we're part of something larger than ourselves, and that our choices have an impact on it.

Developing that relationship doesn't require climbing mountains, spending hours meditating, or completely changing your lifestyle. It can begin with something as simple as paying attention to the world around you.

And perhaps that's where mindfulness and reciprocity meet. We notice what sustains us, develop an appreciation for it, and become more thoughtful about how we respond.

Our brains benefit from nature. Our bodies depend on it. And our choices affect it.

Maybe caring for ourselves and caring for the natural world aren't two entirely separate conversations after all.

References

Berman, M. G., Jonides, J., & Kaplan, S. (2008). The cognitive benefits of interacting with nature. Psychological Science, 19(12), 1207–1212. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1467-9280.2008.02225.x

Bratman, G. N., et al. (2015). Nature experience reduces rumination and subgenual prefrontal cortex activation. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 112(28), 8567–8572. https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.1510459112

Capaldi, C. A., Dopko, R. L., & Zelenski, J. M. (2014). The relationship between nature connectedness and happiness: A meta-analysis. Frontiers in Psychology, 5, Article 976. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2014.00976

Geniusz, M. S. (2015). Plants Have So Much to Give Us, All We Have to Do Is Ask: Anishinaabe Botanical Teachings. University of Minnesota Press.