Just Get The Heck Outside

Summary

The article "Just Get The Heck Outside" emphasizes the importance and benefits of spending time in nature, even while working, to reduce stress and improve mental and physical well-being.

Abstract

The author, Jennifer J. McDougall, shares a personal anecdote about the transformative experience of moving her workspace outdoors. Despite initial technical difficulties with her internet connection, she manages to work from her backyard, surrounded by nature. The article describes the joy and tranquility she finds in observing wildlife and plants, such as a red-winged blackbird with a maple leaf and the intricate details of dandelions and wild violets. McDougall references Dr. Ian Alcock's recommendation of 120 minutes a week in nature for its health benefits, including reduced anxiety, improved creativity, and heart health. The author concludes that even while working, the peacefulness of the natural environment deeply affects her sense of well-being, as she watches birds and enjoys the sounds of nature.

Opinions

The author believes that direct contact with nature is more beneficial than observing it from indoors.
She values the beauty of nature, appreciating even plants commonly regarded as weeds, like dandelions and wild violets.
The article suggests that the natural world can enhance creativity and provide a sense of calm, even when engaged in work activities.
McDougall implies that modern life, with its reliance on technology, can create a disconnect from nature, which should be bridged for overall health.
The author conveys a sense of humor

In case you’ve forgotten how much an eensy peek at nature can reduce your stress

“It’s eighteen degrees!” states one of my students during the calendar time portion of our GoogleMeet. “I want to be outside!”

“Me, too,” I reassure them. Usually, my internet reach falls short of my back deck. And my front porch. And so I’m relegated to my makeshift box-cum-standing desk in our communal living room/kitchen/dining area. Sun streaks through windows begging to be wiped, lighting up aisles of snake and spider plants, and more green outside than gray is observable. It still doesn’t feel close enough to nature. It’s not in nature.

After my student’s comment, I decide to re-attempt backyard cyber-connection. Miraculously it works! Toting enough paperwork to wallpaper the Louvre, and sufficient pens and paperclips to clean the cuticles and ear canals of every coffee-drinking adult in the world, I relocate.

A red-winged blackbird carrying a curled maple leaf half its size docks on the fence about thirty feet away. I chuckle as I notice how close it is to a firm-handled mug balanced on one of the posts. The earthenware coffee cup that my neighbor had sipped from yesterday between chatting with me and chainsawing his unruly shrub to death.

Dandelions sprout like uneven ties on my unpatterned quilt of lawn. Their gorgeous faces, staring up at the sun as I’d like to be doing, bring a smile to my lips. Some are accompanied by wild violets which, though considered a weed, I can’t bear to remove. Have you ever Nancy Drew-ed one? Admired the purple veins darker than my great aunt’s varicose-splotched legs leading into a mouth-like cavern complete with shaggy fuzz. I imagine a buzzing creature, convinced it's stumbling through the beaded doorway of a fortune teller only to be deceivingly led into a nectar-filled center.

Image by author

A sense of calm floods even the fingertips typing comments on student work. The trill of a cardinal who lands on my bike, propped against the shed, blends in with crow squawks, the chuck-chuck-chuckle of a robin, and the harsh whistle of a starling. A bushy-tailed gray squirrel shimmies around the trampoline edge, catching the eye of our cat who crouches low.

Even if I’m oddly combining work and the bliss nature proffers, tranquility settles deep within my bones. Staring out over the hood of my laptop I watch a nuthatch peck about the knots in the cedar railings horizoning their way across patches of emerald. And my heart sings.