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what if we were all a bit more wonderous?

I often think about the joys of seeing the natural world through the eyes of a child and whether this could incentivise us adults to treat it with more care and appreciation.

When was the last time you went for a walk?

I’m not talking about getting from A to B, or strolling through city streets with your headphones in, but really losing yourself to the natural world as you put one foot in front of the other, synchronising with the surrounding biodiversity; the flora, the fauna, and everything in between.

This is something I endeavour to do as often as possible.

Though simple, little else brings me so much joy and I’ve been told, by many, that you can see this on my face.

‘You look like a child who’s only just been introduced to the outdoors,’ a friend once said, noting my expression: eyes wide, mouth agape.

‘I genuinely feel like it,’ I remember responding, quietly surprised that they weren’t as visibly in awe of the beauty that lay before us (probably a lake, or copse of trees, or some enshrouded mushrooms you wouldn’t spot unless you were actively searching for them).

This got me thinking. While it would be a sweeping generalisation to say that I’m alone in my deep-rooted admiration of the Earth, how isn’t everyone as obsessed as I am with the things that humans have played no part in creating?

Obviously, there are numerous reasons behind this.

To begin with, for as long as we’ve existed, so too has our devotion to progress. Ever since we got the ball rolling and started advancing as a race, we’ve been doing so at breakneck speed, growing increasingly ignorant towards the destruction this has left (and continues to leave) in its wake and prioritising society’s streamlining above all else.

This has bred a collective materialist mindset, which most of us are in the clutches of because we unquestioningly crave instant gratification and buying new products – now available to us at the touch of a button – both fulfils that desire in mere seconds and keeps the comparison culture-driven insecurities at bay.

Combine these two, et voila! You’ve got the final and most efficient factor that’s working tirelessly to prevent us from engaging with the environment: technology.

Intended to make our lives significantly easier, accelerate correspondence, and bring a whole new meaning to entertainment, the digital age has succeeded in doing all of this, while simultaneously distracting us from what’s there when we’re not staring at a screen.

‘But the Internet’s helpful,’ I hear you muse. ‘We wouldn’t have the faintest idea of what’s happening to our planet if we were without it,’ you add. And you’re not wrong.

However, as amazing as it is that we have the opportunity to virtually visit places we’ll likely never be able to, as well as stay up-to-date with the latest discoveries (good and bad), can you hand-on-heart say that social media is heightening your eco-consciousness?

It may well be making you more aware, more sensitive to the havoc we’re persistently wreaking, but does it actually evoke feelings of nature-connectedness within you?

When you watch timelapse videos of plants unfurling or double-tap on a photo of your favourite animal roaming its habitat, does it feel close to home or very far away?

When you’re in the forest, are you imagining the bustling mycelial network beneath you or twitching at the phantom vibrations of your phone in your pocket?

I ask these questions not to guilt-trip, but to call attention to the abundance of life all around us which, more and more, we seem to have forgotten – forgotten that it’s an extension of us, as is recognised by Indigenous wisdom and Gaian theoreticians.

‘We abuse land because we regard it as a commodity belonging to us,’ wrote Aldo Leopold in 1949. ‘When we see land as a community to which we belong, we may begin to use it with love and respect.’

Firstly, it shocks me that he was contemplating this over half a century ago (look at us now!).

Secondly, he’s got a point. If our relationship with the Earth were symbiotic, then we’d feel it suffering, we’d acknowledge that our impact is hurting us too and we’d consequently aspire to do better.

Unfortunately, this approach is still considered rather outlandish, but whether or not you agree with it, there’s no denying that if we were all at least a bit more wondrous we’d take climate change more seriously.

Allow me to explain.

We’re the only species irrevocably transforming the entire environmental balance, right?

We’re also the only species that’s this disconnected from both that fact and the infinite marvels that our planet has to offer, without needing or wanting anything in return.

So, what if we decided to be more curious about this?

Kinda like a kid who hasn’t yet had access to a device and gets to explore the natural world with a completely clean slate.

Who’s to say what lengths we’d then go to to protect it, free from distraction, from the urgency of always, relentlessly, pushing ahead.

This is challenging, of course, and demands a great deal of presence, but I sincerely believe that if more of us sought to appreciate the gifts that are already handed to us daily then we’d treat them with more care.

I’m an idealist, sure, but promise me you’ll give truly immersing yourself – slowing your steps, savouring through your senses, observing the teeny weeny details – a try the next time you go walking in your nearest green space.

The calm, comfort, and contentment you’ll no doubt experience might alleviate some of the dread.

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