Trusting Nature

by Shay Wilson

“Our task must be to free ourselves…by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and its beauty.” – Albert Einstein

A couple of weeks ago I traveled with my partner, Louis, to Idaho to raft the Snake River for six days along with eleven other people. It was an adventurous trip that had me way out of my element in the biggest whitewater I’ve ever seen. Having worked in wilderness therapy for three years backpacking in the wilderness with teens, I was no stranger to living outside for multiple days in a row. Some may think that the rattlesnakes, bears, big whitewater, and carrying everything we need down 86 miles of the river would be the most daunting challenge of the trip.

For me, interpersonal dynamics with a group of people I’ve never spent long periods of time with (other than Louis) worried me the most. I trained for this trip by meditating almost every day as if I was training for a meditation marathon. And I'm happy to report that it actually does make a difference. My mindfulness practice aided me throughout the week in ways I didn’t even know until after I returned home. There are so many ways my practice supported me, but for the sake of not turning this into a novel, I will touch on the two that helped the most: staying in the present moment and trusting.

As we sat on our first flight of the trip and I turned my phone on airplane mode I noticed my racing thoughts and increasing anxiety. It wasn’t anxiety about the plane ride or the impending unknown of the trip, it was about having my phone off and not being able to use the time “productively”. I thought “I could get so much done if I had access to the internet!” and “There’s a lot I need to do before being out of cell service for days.” In reality, there was nothing I needed to do. My inner gear shift was simply stuck in “go fast” from years of working multiple jobs and running my art business and simply being a person who has always been on the go and intrigued by a new idea/venture. While observing these anxious feelings I realized this was going to be a meaningful trip for me in so many ways.

After our first day of huge rapids and all of the feelings of awe and giddiness of the beautiful surroundings, I had no problem staying in the present moment. Louis safely rowed us through fun rapids and I just hung on tight and took it all in. The layers of rocky mountains, big open sky, and glistening water are enough to hold my gaze for hours and even days. I was equally in awe of Louis' calm demeanor and ability to row through huge rapids, dodge big rocks, and not flipping our boat. Our little community had a nice routine where our days consisted of taking turns making breakfast, packing up camp, rowing down the river, enjoying swimming spots along our route, setting up camp, and then taking turns making dinner. There was little room for being out of the present moment. 

These moments make me feel alive and assured that being in nature is my mindfulness practice. Nature requires you to be present and the consequences are obvious and immediate at times if you aren’t paying attention. When I’m fully immersed in nature the chatter quiets in my mind, the beauty of nature fills my senses, and I am present


“I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, ‘This is what it is to be happy.’” – Sylvia Plath

Trust was another interesting theme for me that I hadn't expected. We were using large sixteen-foot rafts weighed down by all of our gear and food and they were physically taxing to move down the river. Louis has rafted boats plenty of times and is experienced in white water, but had never used an oar rig on a raft. We knew there would be some learning curves but I had complete trust that he would get us through the rapids safely and knew his judgment is as solid as a rock. 

Although it was easy for me to trust my partner, it didn’t come so easily trusting a new group of people. It was a new experience to not be “in charge” and the one making decisions on an outdoor trip. I found myself having a difficult time trusting others’ decisions at first. After noticing this in myself and getting to know our river friends better I developed a trust in their decision-making and saw that my habitual way of thinking was causing more harm than helping me. It was eye-opening to recall how I’ve mostly put myself in a space of leadership in outdoor trips so that I don’t need to trust or rely on others. As someone who has spent a lot of my life prioritizing independence, it was a deep realization through mindfulness that I struggle to be vulnerable and trust others at times.

It helped being in nature as it's so easy to see examples of trust all around and know that trusting one another is the only way to get down the river and through life. When spending time in nature you have to make some sort of agreement with yourself that if you come into contact with a wild animal or some unforeseen emergency happens you will be able to handle it. That comes with a lot of preparation and knowledge, but I’ve learned to also cultivate trust in myself and my instincts. 

Trust is something we can learn from nature. The trees trust that the sun will come up and the rains will come to nourish their roots. Animals on different levels of the food chain live in balance and trust their instincts to survive. There is much to observe from the more than human world about how we can be in community and harmony.

The week spent in the wilderness changed my gear shift and something deep inside of me. The cares and worries I previously had before entering the trip washed away and seemed so insignificant. For me, nothing parallels living in the vastness of nature and feeling so small and connected all at the same time. 

On the plane ride home I noticed a difference. I didn’t want to touch my phone, I didn’t want to know what was happening other than in the immediate space around me. I noticed as the guy next to me ravenously scrolled through social media with what seemed like an insatiable appetite. That was me a week ago I thought. My mindfulness practice and daily time outdoors don’t stop me from falling into the enticing trap of living outside of the present moment perpetuated by our society. But I at least feel like I'm becoming more aware of it little by little and know when I need a reset in nature and a reconnection with others.

“To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work.” — Mary Oliver


Shay Wilson is the Operations Coordinator and a facilitator at the Innerwork Center. She has been practicing mindfulness for about 10 years but has always endeavored to connect mindfully to the natural world. She is in the process of completing her Koru Mindfulness certification and looks forward to facilitating classes in the community. She graduated from VCUarts with a degree in Fine Arts and a minor in psychology which speaks to her interest in experiential learning and experiences. Her enjoyment in supporting others on their journey of inner work is why she believes so strongly in The Innerwork Center's mission. In her free time, you can find her painting nature, exploring the trails along the river, and playing with her pups.

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An Interconnected Forest