Embracing the Therapeutic Power of a Country Walk
I come to the country to hear myself think.
There’s no doubt in my mind that London, where I live, is an exciting and vibrant metropolis offering all manner of possibilities. However, I’m not convinced that humans have evolved to live a particularly healthy urban existence. Whilst appreciating the many conveniences offered by modern life, I honour myself by putting strategies in place to avoid the mental strain that some of these ‘conveniences’ can exert.
At night, the modem goes off and the phone goes into flight mode. There is absolutely no electronic equipment in the bedroom – yes, that means no phone and no TV! Emails are laptop-accessible only and are attended to when at my desk. There is a time and a place for work, and it’s certainly not when I’m out and about. And as for the phone, it is set up to receive calls and texts – no notifications whatsoever (there is nothing more irritating than a device constantly ‘pinging’ in one’s bag!) And I still don’t understand the ‘ambulance chaser’ mentality of receiving catastrophic news alerts on tap. Surely that can’t be good for anyone’s mental health?
Never more am I reminded of the entirely unnatural way in which so many of us live our lives now than when out in nature. Walking in nature feels like coming home to me. There is something primal about the experience which never gets old. It’s no accident that I spend my annual summer break deep in the heart of the East Sussex countryside. Our cottage has limited mobile phone connectivity (Emergency calls only), is prone to power cuts, and a 20-minute drive is necessary, should you need to pick up some groceries. Not exactly conductive to 21st century living, some might think. Yet the constant night-time ‘thrum’ to which the average Londoner becomes accustomed is completely absent. Instead, absolute silence ensures a perfect night’s sleep, further enabled by the pitch darkness. In fact, the only night-time lights visible are the moon and stars, often punctuated by the shooting variety. In the absence of both light and general pollution, the night sky reveals an awe-inspiring landscape of wonder which I often find myself staring up at for hours.
I was first introduced to this area by a Rambler friend, over two decades ago. On our very first outing I quickly discovered the therapeutic power of walking in nature. Despite a varied travel life, this landscape evoked feelings unlike any other I’d experienced before. In fact, every year I return expecting to feel perhaps less enamoured by the predictability of the experience. This has yet to happen. On the South Downs, I am in my ‘happy place’. When I start walking a calmness descends in my mind and any anxiety dissipates. I am entirely in that moment, with a profound urge to walk for miles. And I often do. I love to walk. In my opinion, as an exercise modality it is unequalled. This, coupled with the nurturing sights and scents of nature’s finest provides the most powerful form of therapeutic renewal to body and mind. A priceless gift that supersedes any spa or exotic holiday offering. There’s generally no phone connection out in the fields/hills/forests/woods but, as the meme roughly goes, here is a place where I have never felt more connected.
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