Introduction

There’s a tension many of us are carrying these days — an uneasy knot in our chests, a lingering sense of instability. It’s in the air. A quiet, persistent uncertainty driven by shifting political winds, economic unpredictability, and the creeping realization that some of the systems we’ve relied on might not be as solid as we thought.

It’s not just the “news.” It’s the way things feel. Unpredictable. Wobbly. Sometimes random.

I’ve found myself spiraling into thought loops — worrying about what might happen, who might change the rules, and how much control I really have over my life. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed. Stuck. Even afraid.

But something has helped me: nature. Specifically, my connection to it.

A Ritual for Resetting

When the anxiety builds — when the doomscrolling becomes a spiral or my brain won’t stop turning things over — I step outside.

Literally. I put down the phone, close the computer, and walk into the world just outside my door.

I touch a tree.

Sometimes it’s bark, sometimes it’s just the grass beneath my feet. I ground myself with something real. Something that has lived through more storms than I ever will. I take five deep breaths and focus only on the feeling: the texture of the bark, the coolness of the grass, the steadiness of the earth beneath me.

That simple act — just a few minutes of presence — brings me back.

It doesn’t change the world, but it shifts me. It reminds me that while I can’t always control the chaos around me, I can anchor myself in something ancient and steady. And that matters more than we think.

Living in a World That Feels Like a Storm

There’s no denying it: the world feels increasingly chaotic.

Political rhetoric shifts week to week. Social systems feel shaky. Economic plans that made sense just months ago now seem like question marks. And all of this instability affects us — emotionally, mentally, and even physically.

The American Psychological Association found that over two-thirds of U.S. adults report the current political climate as a significant source of stress. That stress, especially when chronic, increases cortisol levels, disrupts sleep, impacts digestion, and erodes our sense of safety.

It can make even simple decisions — where to live, what job to take, when to start a family — feel nearly impossible. Because how do you plan for a future when the rules are always changing?

But this is where the wild comes in — not the chaos of the human world, but the wildness of nature.

Nature Doesn’t Fear Chaos — It’s Built for It

If you spend any real time in nature, one truth becomes clear: uncertainty isn’t the exception — it’s the rule.

Rivers don’t flow in straight lines. Seasons don’t arrive with perfect precision. Ecosystems shift constantly. And still, nature doesn’t resist. It adapts.

Take the salmon, for example. These creatures are born in freshwater, migrate to the sea, then return — often hundreds of miles upstream — to spawn. But that path is never guaranteed. Rivers change. Dams block. Water levels drop. And yet, year after year, salmon adapt. They find new routes. They try again.

Or consider the arctic fox, who thrives in some of the harshest, most unpredictable environments on Earth. When prey is scarce, they shift their diet. When weather patterns change, they alter their dens and foraging behaviors.

And look at Yellowstone National Park. After the massive fires in 1988, many assumed it would take decades to recover. But within just a few years, new life surged through the ashes. Fireweed bloomed. Pine saplings sprouted. The forest knew what to do — not despite the destruction, but because of it.

What the Wild Teaches Us About Uncertainty

In nature, chaos isn’t feared. It’s used.

Animals don’t waste time wishing things were different. They don’t cling to stability that no longer exists. They pivot. They flow. They accept.

Humans, on the other hand, often resist uncertainty. We try to control it, predict it, out-think it. But maybe that’s the wrong approach.

What if we stopped trying to force certainty — and started practicing resilience?

Grounding Practices You Can Use Right Now

If the world feels too heavy, here are a few ways to reconnect — to nature, to yourself, and to something more stable than headlines.

1. Touch a Tree 
Not metaphorically — literally. Pick one tree in your yard, on your walk, or near your office. Place your hand on its trunk. Breathe. This tactile grounding has been shown to regulate the nervous system and calm anxiety.

2. Go Barefoot on Grass 
Walking barefoot — also called “earthing” — helps discharge built-up stress and reconnect you with the physical world.

3. Watch Wildlife 
Whether it’s birds at a feeder or squirrels in a tree, observing how animals respond to their environment can shift your perspective. You’ll often notice how calm they are, even when things aren’t “perfect.”

4. Ask Yourself: What Can I Do Right Now? 
Not what you can solve tomorrow. Just right now. Bring your attention to the present. Make tea. Send the email. Step outside.

Chaos is a Teacher

Resilience doesn’t come from things going smoothly. It comes from falling, recalibrating, and trying again.

Nature has survived ice ages, droughts, floods, wildfires — and keeps going. Not by staying the same, but by adjusting and evolving.

So can we.

We’re built for this, even if it doesn’t always feel like it. And when you need proof, go outside. Let your fingers brush across bark. Let the wind tug gently at your clothes. Let the grass remind you what’s real.

There’s wisdom there — ancient, wild, and waiting for you.

-Shay

Your peace has always been there, hiding in the wilds beyond the breeze