Nature VS Nervous System

What if the path back to a balanced nervous system was waiting just outside your front door?

In this episode we will discuss the powerful relationship between nature and the nervous system, and discover how reconnecting with the natural world can soothe stress, help regulate hormones and guide the body back towards balance. 

Whether you are feeling overwhelmed, disconnected or simply seeking a deeper sense of calm, this conversation invites you to slow down, use your senses to regulate and remember the grounding support that is always around you.

Perfect for:

Nervous System Regulation

Stress relief and relaxation

Mindfulness and grounding

Connecting with nature

Emotional Balance

https://www.epidemicsound.com/artists/donvayei

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:06

Welcome back to the Grounding Room. I just went on an absolutely fabulous trip to BC and Alberta, Canada to do the national parks out there. And what brought me out there was a hobby that I have done for over a decade now: wildlife photography. And that is probably one of the most abundant places I've ever been for wildlife. There are so many moments in nature that I can't describe the happiness and joy it's brought me. I have been face to face with a moose before. I have watched Osprey dive into the water and catch a fish. I have walked by a mother bear who stood up on its hind legs checking me out while the baby scurried up a tree. I have been at a stream fishing and had a bobcat walk right up to me, and we both scared each other. Watching nature is probably one of the most profoundly exciting things. And while yes, there's bugs, and sometimes it's cold, and sometimes it's hot, and sometimes it's miserable, those moments are what keep me going outside. And I will encourage anybody to do the same thing. There's so much magic out there that surrounds us, and I'm so passionate about this subject. So stick with me today. We're gonna have a great conversation. We're gonna go over science and evolution and parts of the world that we don't even think about anymore. I'm so excited you're here. I'm so excited to be part of this journey with you, and I hope you enjoy this conversation as much as I enjoy having it. Being out in Alberta and BC, surrounded by nature and wildlife, gave me the idea to do a podcast on what I titled Nature versus Nervous System and how helpful nature is at regulating our nervous system. So grab your binoculars and let's head outside. One thing that I've learned over the years is that nature definitely does not just provide a beautiful backdrop for our lives. It's one of the oldest regulators of the human nervous system. A long time before cities came along, highways were built, screens, schedules, and artificial light, our brains and bodies learned to find rhythm, safety, and balance through the living world. Every breeze, sunrise, bird song, and flowing stream became information that our nervous system used to answer one essential question. Am I safe? The same question I say in almost every podcast. Our bodies are designed to scan for danger or safety. When we spend time in healthy, natural environments, our senses receive thousands of subtle signals that promote regulation. The movement of leaves in the wind, the soft variation of birds, the changing light filtering through trees, and the rhythmic crash of waves are all examples of ways that we can be fascinated. These experiences capture our attention without demanding it, allowing the brain's executive networks to rest while restoring our capacity for focus and emotional balance. And before you say something like, I hate bugs, or it's too hot or cold, remember that it was only in the 1930s that residential air conditioning became popular. And I stuck that fact in here because we've grown so comfortable being comfortable that we forgot that nature holds such beauty. And because we're so programmed to be in a comfortable house without a fly or a mosquito in it, or temperature-regulated home, we forget that it's not just about the bugs or the temperature. Nature also offers a remarkable gift through rhythm. Our bodies are rhythmic organisms. We breathe in cycles. Our heart beats in patterns, and our hormones rise and fall throughout the day. Sleep follows a circadian rhythm that depends on sunlight and darkness, and nature surrounds us with matching rhythms, the tides, the changing seasons, even the waxing and waning moon, rainfall, migration, blooming flowers, and the daily sunrise. When we immerse ourselves in these rhythms, our own internal timing systems often begin to synchronize, supporting healthier sleep, steadier moods, and more resilient stress responses. For years, I spent avoiding little birds in nature. And while I love their bird song, photographing them is my personal nightmare. To me, I've always made jokes that little birds are on crack cocaine, and you're never gonna get a shot of them because they're constantly moving around, and could care less if you get a shot of them. And I know that sounds like a joke, but once I started to be patient and sit still and wait for them to land on a branch, which just happened this year, I really began to see the beauty that emerged in it. A scarlet taninger, the brightest red feathers you can imagine, an indigo bunting, deep blue feathers, a yellow common throat, absolutely gorgeous, an entire rainbow of birds exists all around us. And I was ignoring them because it was too difficult for me. And the irony of all that? Watching the birds in 2026 has brought me more peace and patience in my life than any other year or any other animal I've ever photographed. Unlike the constant mechanical noise of traffic, alarms, electronics, natural soundscapes contain rich variations without overwhelming unpredictability. Running water, wind through grasses, the humming of the insects we hate so much, frogs calling in the distance, and birds singing create a complex acoustic environment that many nervous systems interpret as signs of a stable ecosystem. Nature teaches us flexibility rather than perfection. The trees bend during storms instead of resisting every force. Rivers flow around obstacles instead of fighting them. Forests are able to recover after fire. Meadows regenerate after winter. These are not just some observations I thought up to sound poetic. They mirror the healthiest functioning of our own nervous system. Regulation is not about remaining calm all the time. It's about recovering, adapting, and returning to balance after disruption. Nature demonstrates resilience repeatedly, reminding us that healing is a process of movement rather than stillness. There is also profound regulation in the way nature invites presence. I have watched an array of butterflies land on my oregano this year. They love the flowers that it's producing. In Canada, at Glacier National Park, I took a walk through a rainforest that was filled with cedar trees, and I touched their bark and felt the texture of it beneath my hand. For longer than just a brief second, and when I saw the sunlight reflecting on Emerald Lake in the middle of Banff, Canada, it naturally anchored awareness in my present moment. This gentle sensory engagement helps interrupt cycles of rumination and worry, bringing attention away from imagined features and unresolved pasts into the immediate experience. When we hold on to our trauma and live in a past that no longer exists, we may miss the present sunlight. We may miss the present sounds of nature. The nervous system often finds regulation through this simple return into the present moment. Plants themselves communicate with us in ways we are only beginning to understand. The scent released by pine trees, cedar forest, and flowering plants contain volatile compounds that can influence our physiology. How cool is that? The visual language of nature is uniquely calming. Many natural environments contain repeating yet imperfect patterns called fractals. This was one of my favorite things to learn. Ferns, coastlines, river systems, tree branches, clouds, snowflakes, and mountains all display these self-repeating geometries. The research around this suggests that viewing fractal patterns may reduce physiological markers of stress and require less mental effort to process than many artificial environments. It is as though our brains recognize these ancient patterns as familiar territory. The microbiology of nature may also influence emotional well-being. Contact with healthy soil, a diverse amount of plants, and the outdoor ecosystem exposes us to microorganisms that actually help shape our immune system, and may have influenced communication between our gut and the brain. Scientists continue to investigate how biodiversity supports not only the physical health, but also our emotional resilience, reminding us that our bodies are ecosystems connected to an even larger ecosystem. Nature also dissolves the illusion of separation. Each breath that we take exchanges gases with the forest and the ocean. The oxygen entering our lungs was produced by plants and microscopic marine organisms. The carbon dioxide we exhale becomes a part of the ongoing conversation between humanity and the living Earth. We are not just visitors in nature, we are actually participating in the immense biological dialogue that has continued for billions of years. Nature is so frickin' cool. It is perhaps one of the greatest lessons that I have ever learned. Seasons remind us that activity must be balanced by rest. Winter does not apologize for slowing down. And yet we feel compelled to keep going. This season was designed for rest. That's why there's less sunlight. The circadian rhythm is meant to use it for rest. Farmers can't farm in the winter. It's time for rest. The trees in the fall do not cling to every leaf as if to not let it go. Flowers bloom only when conditions are right, and the natural world models cycles instead of constant productivity. I truly believe our nervous systems were designed for those exact same cycles of engagement, restoration, growth, and recovery. It's a little late in the season for this, but next spring I encourage you to start a garden. Don't do what I did the first year and pick every single vegetable and try to find space for them all. Start with a tomato plant or a cucumber plant. Watch it grow. Take a seed, put it in some soil, nurture it, and watch it grow, and then allow it to die when it's time. The cycle is very, very important. And our bodies are meant to have the same cycle. When we intentionally spend time outdoors, walking beneath the trees or listening to the birds, even watching the clouds drift by, sitting beside water or tending to a garden, we are doing so much more than relaxing. We're actually reconnecting with the environment that has shaped the architecture of our nervous systems. In many ways, nature is not simply something we visit for healing. It's one of the original conditions under which healing became possible. If every root intertwined beneath the forest floor, or every flock moving as one, every stream feeding a river, every bee pollinating a flower reminds us that regulation often begins with the relationship. As we remember our relationship with the natural world, we often rediscover our relationship with ourselves. Nature doesn't just surround us, it communicates with us continuously. Much of this conversation happens beneath conscious awareness, quietly shaping our physiology in ways that modern science is only beginning to fully appreciate. Trees filter airborne pollutants, capture particulate matter, release oxygen through photosynthesis, and help cool and humidify the surrounding environment. It is as though the forest is actually sharing part of its own resilience with us, reminding us that breathing can be an act of healing as well as an act of survival. While forests are not simply oxygen factories, in the way they're sometimes described, spending time in green spaces often means breathing cleaner, cooler, and less polluted air than in dense urban environments. Each breath becomes a quiet partnership between ourselves and the living world around us. Sunlight is another profound messenger to our nervous system. The first light in the morning enters specialized cells in our eyes that communicate directly with the brain's master biological clock. It coordinates nearly every daily rhythm in the body. Sleep, hormone release, body temperature, metabolism, digestion, alertness. Morning sunlight signals that the day has begun, and it helps suppress the melatonin that keeps us sleepy. It increases our alertness and starts the internal timer that allows melatonin to rise again naturally in the evening. Regular exposure to natural daylight versus artificial light strengthens our circadian rhythm, making our sleep deeper, our energy steadier, and our mood more stable. It also supports healthy cortisol patterns, encouraging cortisol to rise appropriately in the morning and gradually decline throughout the day. Rather than being the enemy of stress, cortisol becomes part of a healthy daily rhythm that energizes us when we need and allows us to rest when our day is finished. When the birds start to chirp in the morning, it speaks to the nervous system in surprising ways. Birds have acted as messengers of environmental safety. In healthy ecosystems, birds sing when they're feeding, nesting, and communicating. Their songs often indicate that there is absolutely no immediate predator nearby. Our brain to this day still interprets these rich landscapes as subtle signs that the environment is safe enough to relax, even though we're not consciously making that decision. If you've ever been in a field where a roughed grouse comes flying out of nowhere, where everything seemed quiet and subtle, and the grouse erupts from the forest floor almost directly beneath your feet. Many birders describe this as one of the most startling experiences in nature. But what's really cool is that the roughed grouse relies on its camouflage. Their first defense is not to fly away. Their first defense is to remain completely still until the danger is upon it, and then it'll fly away quickly. Chickadees are another awesome bird. They're pretty much the alarm system of the forest. This bird weighs less than a half an ounce, but it possesses one of the most sophisticated alarm systems in the bird world. Chickadees modify their alarm call depending on the predator threat level. When they encounter small agile predators like smaller owls, which are particularly dangerous to them, they add more D at the end of their famous chickadee call. More danger, more D's. The amazing part is that other species in the forest listen to this. Nuthatches, woodpeckers, warblers, they all listen. The forest essentially shares the information. Imagine hearing a neighborhood alarm system that tells you not only that a burglar exists, but also how dangerous that burglar is. Does he have a knife or a gun? This is what the chickadee is accomplishing by making these noise. Our nervous systems are designed when we hear natural bird song going on to feel like everything is okay. And our natural nervous system knows when there's a threat in the area. Essentially, we're eavesdropping on the survival conversations that birds are having with each other. And research suggests that listening to bird song can improve your mood, reduce your anxiety, restore your attention, and lessen the mental load that we carry with us every day. The varied melodies gently engage the brain without overwhelming it. And after this podcast, I'm gonna post a recording that I did when I went out at 4 a.m. one morning. The recording is simply the sound of birds. And if you feel like your nervous system is so out of whack, give this a listen. Unlike the abrupt sounds of sirens, engines, or electronic notifications, birds are complex, rhythmic, and naturally unpredictable in ways that tend to soothe us rather than alarm our nervous system. It invites curiosity instead of the vigilance that we live in every single day. Let's talk the sound of moving water right now. Why do we all love the ocean so much? It's partly because it's absolutely beautiful, but most of it is because it regulates the nervous system. Rivers, rainfall, waterfalls, the ocean waves, they all produce a broad spectrum of sounds, and they gently mask sudden noises and provide a continuous sensory drop. This is a luxury we don't get at home. The rhythmic quality often encourages slower breathing and can help calm the fight or flight nervous system while supporting the rest and restore activity. Many people instinctively breathe more slowly when they're sitting beside water, allowing the body's internal rhythms to begin matching the rhythms of the landscape. So now you don't have to ask yourself why when you have a vacation, the need to be by the ocean is drawing you so deeply. It makes sense. When we've surrounded our life with chaos and uncertainty, the predictability of the sound and rhythm of the waves is actually what our body is yearning for. Even the wind participates in this conversation. Simply watching grasses sway or leaves flutter creates slow repetitive movement that naturally draws the eye into smooth tracking patterns rather than constant scanning. This visual rhythm may reduce hypervigilance and invite the nervous system towards a state of openness and ease. The next awesome thing that nature provides us is that it nourishes us through touch. Walking barefoot on grass, the sand, moss, or cool soil provides us with sensory input to the thousands of nerve endings in our feet. This stimulation enhances balance, body awareness, and the brain's map of where we are in space and time. Simply leaning against the rough bark of a tree or feeling cool water flow over our hands activates sensory pathways that anchor us into the present moment. Healthy soil itself contains astonishing biological diversity. Contact with biodiverse outdoor environments exposes us to beneficial microorganisms that can help educate the immune system. Scientists continue to explore how regular interaction with the natural ecosystem supports both physical and emotional resilience through this intricate relationship between microbes, immunity, and the nervous system. The colors of nature also shape our physiology. Green landscapes have been associated with reduced mental fatigue and improved recovery from stress. Blue spaces, like oceans, lakes, rivers, streams, are often linked with greater feelings of calm, reflection, and emotional restoration. These colors may influence the attention we pay to something, our perception of a landscape, and emotional processing in subtle but meaningful ways. Nature even teaches our nervous system through its patterns, fractals, self-repeating designs found in furds, tree branches, clouds, coastlines, snowflakes are processed efficiently by the visual system. Looking at these patterns appears to reduce cognitive effort and may lower physiological signs of stress. Our brains seem remarkably comfortable with the mathematics of nature because they developed within those very patterns. Nature reminds us that regulation is dynamic, not static. Trees bend without breaking during a storm. Rivers slow behind rocks before flowing forward again. Forests regenerate after fires, and flowers close at night and reopen with the morning sun. Every ecosystem moves through cycles of activity and restoration. Our nervous system follows through these same principles. Health is not the absence of stress, it is the capacity to respond, recover, adapt, and return to balance. Every time we step outside, we enter a living conversation that has been unfolding for millions of years, the reset of our biological clock, the smells and scents that influence our physiology, the bird song that reassures ancient parts of our brain, the flowing water that slows our breath, and the earth that grounds us back into our senses. The trees clean the air we inhale while exchanging gases that sustain life itself. Nature offers countless gentle invitations that help the body remember what calm feels like. Long before we learned techniques for relaxation, the living world had already done a great job at becoming one of humanity's oldest and most faithful partners in regulation, healing, and resilience. We already have the tools. They're just outside. So for today, my somatic practice that I'm gonna leave you with is to go outside. Let yourself wander around without an agenda. Listen to the birds. Scan the trees to watch them fly through them. Feel the warmth of the sun or the coolness of a breeze on your face. Notice the tiny miracles that are happening all around you every single day. Sometimes the greatest reminder of who we are isn't found in doing more. It's found in returning to what has always been there. Grab some binoculars, sit on your back deck, and just listen, see, feel, touch, and smell what's around you. Utilize your senses, which is one of the most profoundly grounding ways to get our nervous systems regulated. Thank you so much for spending time with me today talking about nature. It's obviously something that I am hugely passionate about, and being outside is what brings me so much joy and happiness. So even if it's just for a few moments to rediscover the peace, wonder, and magic that's waiting for you just beyond your front door. Until next time, take care of yourself, take care of each other, and don't forget nature isn't somewhere we go, it's where we remember that we belong.