Understanding the Way of Water
The beginning of the first chapter in the Human Nature journey, focusing on our connection to water
Welcome to Human Nature, a newsletter and community dedicated to understanding and cultivating our connection to nature to become better stewards and members of our beautiful planet. In this week’s story, I’m announcing the first chapter of this newsletter, focused on the human connection to water.
Let’s talk about water.
Early this morning, I went for a run along the Deschutes River in Bend, Oregon. This is one of my favorite local runs because the dirt trail winds along the river for a few miles before returning to one of the city’s largest parks.
Over the years, I’ve probably run this trail over 200 times. It’s a great quick run, close to town, and still offers a chance to get away from the city and enjoy the tranquility of nature.
Unfortunately, back in October, I injured my knee and found out I have arthritis from a previous ACL and meniscus injury from when I was 18. So, this morning’s run was the first time in nearly six months that I’ve gotten out and spent time on this trail.
Due to this prolonged break, I was running a little slower this morning. But, instead of worrying about my slow pace, I decided to really pay attention to the world around me. I heard the wind blowing across the tops of the pine trees, watched the cliff swallows dart down to the water’s surface, and listened to the sound of the river running alongside me.
The sound of the river quickly became my focus. The subtle yet powerful sound of water running across the rocks, carving its way toward town, and carrying with it an entire ecosystem of life, piqued my interest.
After a few minutes, I became lost in this sound. I forgot about the exhaustion of running for the first time in six months. I was no longer worried about my time or pace, the past injury in my knee, or even the other things I had scheduled for the rest of the day. Instead, all that mattered was myself and the river.
In this trance, I found myself starting to race the river. Neither of us was fast; we both careened slowly and methodically toward town, moving at a slow and steady pace. After a few minutes of this, though, I realized I was a newcomer in this race and had no chance of winning. My out-of-shape legs were trying to keep up with a local legend, a river that had been carrying water from the Cascade Mountains to the raging rapids of the Columbia River for thousands of years.
In that timelessness lies the true beauty of water. These moving bodies of molecules are the foundation for the entire existence of life on Earth. Without water, none of this would exist.
In that reality, there is something our bodies understand and are deeply attracted to. We need water. We are made of water. And because of this, our biological bodies crave its presence in our lives. We want to be close to and feel water, so that our body and mind know we are safe.
For myself, the sound of a river cascading down a forested valley in the springtime air is something I’m luckily very familiar with. I’ve spent much time along this river, as well as many others, basking in the presence of their flowing waters.
Through these experiences, I’ve developed a fascination with water, from the high streams of the Eastern Sierra to the powerful magnetic force of the Colorado River.
Every time I’ve spent a few hours alongside these bodies of water, I’ve felt at peace. I’ve felt an overwhelming feeling of safety and connection. It’s almost as if the sounds of the river or ocean are wrapping themselves around me and whispering, “It’s okay.”
These feelings have meant that anytime I’m struggling in my life, I’ve gone in search of water. In my mid-20s, I craved the vast expanse of the ocean and the endless blue horizon. In the later part of my teens, I craved mountainous lakes and the presence of water against the backdrop of geological transformation.
My relationship with water has been a way to timestamp my memories and track my own existence on this planet.
Over the last few years, as I’ve started to think more deeply about my connection to the natural world, this connection to water has started to interest me more and more. Pushed on by my recent reconnection with the ocean and the research of individuals such as Wallace J. Nichols, I’ve started to seek a deeper understanding of what water means to us.
Over the next few months, I’m going to challenge us to dive deeper (yes, I did it) into this relationship with water. Together, we will seek to understand the ways we can use our connection to this building block of life to better our bodies, minds, and relationship with the natural world.
Whether it’s wild swimming in the lakes of the southern Cascades, learning to dive in our planet’s oceans, or using water-based therapies to support our physical and mental health, we’re going to investigate the human connection to nature through our relationship with water.
The First Event - Human Nature Happy Hour
In addition to this new chapter, Human Nature will be holding our first-ever Happy Hour event on May 22nd from 4:30 to 5:30 PM PST!
During the Happy Hour, we’ll be getting together to discuss our connection with nature, sharing stories from our adventures, and getting nerdy about the natural world.
All you’ll need for this event is yourself and a drink of your choice. We’ll get together for an hour to chat and learn more about each other and the way we view the natural world.
These first few editions will be free for everyone but are capped at 20 people. Members of the Naturalists community were given first access to tickets and will continue to get first access for future versions of all events.
I hope you join us! If so, please register below to let me know you’re coming. I’m excited to meet more people in this community and nerd out about our big and beautiful planet.
Story of the Week
This week’s story of the week comes from Avery Schyuler Nunn, who recently reported for Smithsonian Magazine, documenting her feelings and the insights she gained from photographing kelp forests.
Kelp forests are one of the world’s most productive ecosystems and are incredibly important to the future of our oceans. In many ways, they are also considered the ocean’s rainforest based on their role in regulating carbon dioxide from the atmosphere.
In Nunn’s story, she shares her experience photographing these kelp forests, summarized by these wonderful words: “Through art, we are reminded to stop, admire, and care for this living, breathing part of the planet. It’s why I keep returning, camera in hand, to dive again and again, to capture the kelp and its delicate ecosystems, to inspire others to protect what sustains us.”
Read the entire story here.
NOTE: Remember to sign up for our membership community, The Naturalists, which includes access to the Monthly Challenges, community chat, upcoming events, and more. Sign up and join our Naturalist community below.
Thanks for being here, friends. See you in the next one.
With love,
Keegan
