Sensitivity and Nature
immersion in nature as resistance and therapy
When everything feels too much, where do you turn?
I often think about the meaning of the word sensitive - ‘capable of being stimulated or excited by external agents (such as light, gravity, or contact) / easily hurt or damaged / readily affected or changed by various agents’ (Merriam Webster). It is sometimes leveled as an insult ‘you’re too senstitive’ or ‘don’t be so sensitive’, but is it so bad to be affected by the world around you?
As Gabor Maté recently stated, ‘it is impossible to have your eyes open and not to have your heart broken'. Being aware of and trying to change awful insurmountable things like climate change, the genocide in Gaza, billionaires, war, the snatching back of rights for women, LGBTQ+ people and refugees, along with infinite other injustices, does hurt.
For a few years, in an effort to protect my sensitive heart, I made the decision not to watch or listen to the news or read a newspaper. I truly believe that we are not built to worry about the whole world, that we have evolved only to cope with the small communities around us. So, I built that wall around my heart, and was very intentional in my choice to change what I can, by contributing to causes I care about: Greenpeace and Choose Love for example, and leave everything else on the other side of that wall.
Likewise, just over a year ago, I created a new Instagram feed for myself, just for poetry @alexprincepoet so that I could stop the algorithmic influx of bad news and issues that had leaked onto my personal page, making me feel impotent and angry. How is that going? Not great. Despite myself, I do care about multiple global issues and people outside the small community I know in real life. My poetry Instagram is now a mix of poetry and politics. I recently saw a quote on there, ‘You are not doomscrolling, you’re hopescrolling’ (apologies I don’t remember where it came from, please let me know if you know), and I think that is true. I am searching for the light amongst the darkness, news that something has improved or of some way I can help.
I think I have to reconcile myself to the fact that I am interested and invested in the state of the world and injustice. My name even means defender of people* so maybe it is built-in that I want to make things better in some way.
So, back to the title of this post. When you are faced with the onslaught of awful things, when the mountain of injustice feels too high to climb, what do you do to help your sensitive self? I find that nature is always the answer. I walk by the river, watch mayflies dancing over the water, see jewels of sunlight reflected on its surface, notice buddleja growing through a crack in the pavement, listen to relentlessly cheerful birdsong, see otherworldly forests in moss on a damp wall. I see that whatever mess we make of each other’s lives, whatever mess us humans try to make of this beautiful world, nature will thrive and nature is where the truth of life really is.
Sensitivity is not a weakness
Skin thin
as onion membrane,
see through.
Light as dandelion seed,
containing everything
floating.
Spider silk
strength woven,
satin-soft,
bulletproof.
*Alexandra actually means defender of men, but I am assuming that was when ‘men’ meant everyone, and I’d really like to expand it to mean ‘defender of people, wildlife, earth, sea…’
Alex I love this notion of a bulletproof weakness. I often have the visual of saplings bending over in the wind. And I tell myself, be a sapling, be a sapling. When I was 9 yrs old, we had a pine thicket, so thick and windy and lovely. Then an ice storm wiped the pines out.