
“Bring questions into this space [the forest] and you will receive a reply, though not an answer. Deep terrain offers up multiplicity, forked paths, symbolic meaning. It schools you in compromise, in shifting interpretation. It will mute your rationality and make you believe in magic. It removes time from the clock face and reveals the greater truth of its operation, its circularity, and its vastness. It will show you rocks of unfathomable age and bursts of life so ephemeral that they are barely there. It will show you the crawl of geological ages, the gradual change of the seasons, and the countless micro-seasons that happen across the year. It will demand your knowledge: the kind of knowledge that’s experiential, the kind of knowledge that comes with study. Know it — name it — and it will reward you only with more layers of detail, more frustrating revelations of your own ignorance. A deep terrain is a life’s work. It will beguile, nourish, and sustain you through decades, only to finally prove that you, too, are ephemeral compared to the rocks and the trees."
~ Katherine May, from the book Enchantment: Awakening Wonder in an Anxious Age
I received an interesting reply from nature recently that I want to share with you.
I was talking with my daughter about school. She is enjoying science class and is now learning about viruses and other microbial elements. She told me something she recently saw reminded her of the way the flu virus looked. “How do you know what the flu virus looks like?,” I asked. She mentioned that they had seen various images in class, and that they were pretty cool.
This exchange tickled a memory embedded somewhere in the recesses of my own brain that recalled the amazing and sublime beauty of the microscopic worlds of nature found under Scanning Electron Microscopes, or SEM’s for short. So with the magic of Google in my pocket, we sat and paged through a bunch of different images of SEM photography, oohing and ahhing at the sheer awe-inspiring beauty of the fiber ribbons inside the shell of an acorn, as well as the sci-fi and horror movie creature inspiration that comes from the tiniest creatures on earth.


This reminder from nature that there is such a myriad of entities on this planet that exist beyond our immediate sensory experience was mind-blowing – as May says above – almost making me believe in magic.
It also reminded me that I (and all humanity for that matter) am but a mere pinprick of existence on this planet. We may have the upper hand for now, but for how long? Will Mother Nature finally have enough of our arrogance and ego and decide to reclaim her home from our meddling? We have already seen – in 2020 – the devastation that microscopic life forms can wreak within our human bodies and societies. What more could be in store?
What if instead we chose to partner with this place where we have evolved? Why doesn’t human evolution lean a bit more into collaboration with the planet rather than domination over the planet? What about a reciprocal relationship rather than an extractive one? We have barely scratched the surface of the magic this Earth has to offer, and this is after millennia as a species on this planet. My theory as to why is that we choose not to pay attention at the deeper levels described by the author above, and rather focus on what's easy, short-term pleasure, and wealth.
Not all of us, of course. There are thousands of curious scientists and philosophers out there asking these questions. But those ideas rarely seem to wind their way into the public discourse that shapes national policies nor even the conversations at the corner bar. Why?
Consider the wisdom embedded in ecosystems where collaboration and balance are key to survival. Forests, for example, operate on principles of mutual support, where trees communicate through mycorrhizal networks and share nutrients to ensure the health of the entire community. By emulating these natural systems, couldn’t we develop sustainable practices that prioritize long-term well-being over short-term gains?
Forest bathing is a practice that could immerse many seekers into environments in a new, focused manner that aids in revealing the awe and beauty we all need so badly. In essence, the act of looking deeply into nature is not just an exercise in observation, but a catalyst for transformative thinking. It encourages us to reimagine our relationship with the planet, fostering a culture of stewardship and interconnectedness. By embracing this perspective, we can create a future where human progress is intertwined with the flourishing of the natural world, ensuring the longevity and vitality of both.
The challenge lies in bringing these ideas into the mainstream, influencing policies and practices on a larger scale. It requires a collective effort to shift our cultural narrative from one of dominance to one of partnership. As we continue to explore the depths of nature's wisdom, let us also strive to embed these insights into the very fabric of our societies, paving the way for a more sustainable and harmonious coexistence with our planet.
But even if we succeed in this endeavor, the planet will ask us other questions. It will continue to prompt us to think deeper. Our kids will ask us questions we cannot answer. I encourage you to remain curious on their behalf because they will inherit this world. Everything is figure-outable, so dig into finding the answer with them and allow yourself to be awed by what you discover.
Remember, May invites us to embrace the fact, that “a deep terrain is a life’s work. It will beguile, nourish, and sustain you through decades, only to finally prove that you, too, are ephemeral compared to the rocks and the trees.”

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