SATURDAY, MARCH 11, 2006
In my interview with Michele Lessirard two weeks ago, she made mention of something she called Nature-Deficit Disorder. I had never heard the phrase before and asked her to explain and elaborate.
She went on to describe the longing that most people feel today to reconnect --- in this case with nature but I would like to add (and maybe equally as important) with each other. (But that's another entry for another day.) I am feeling compelled to write today because I had my own experience of this very idea just yesterday.
From December 1995 until early June 2005, I lived at a place called Lake Emerald. As the name suggests, every apartment faced a huge lake (200 acres?) For all of those 10 years, I spent the better part of the delightful, comfortable winter months of the year, sitting on my screened patio enjoying the blessings of nature, right outside my window. Ducks, turtles and birds of all kinds were my daily companions. I even saw a snake and a 4 ft. iguana, once.
The side of the apartment that faced the Lake (in a northerly direction) had sliding glass doors which were kept open when the temperature allowed. Despite any of the struggles and/or challenges I may have experienced during that time, the Lake and my patio were my haven -- my oasis -- my sacred space and place. Much of my creative work during those years was inspired by the connection I felt there.
For reasons beyond any conscious control on my part, I was forced to leave that home and despite intensive searching, I am now living in a place with no lake, no screened patio and no view. I can definitely say, that I am acutely aware of my own nature-deficit disorder at this point.
It feels like a yearning in my soul. And it dawned on me just yesterday, that several months of our lovely Florida winter weather had already passed by and I have barely spent a moment outside. So, I decided to go to a park, that curiously enough, Michele had introduced me to over three years ago.
Granted, the turtles, ducks, geese, ibis and squirrels were there. It was breezy and sunny and nice to be outside, however, I can honestly say the place just isn't as it was. The devastation brought by Hurricane Wilma (and maybe Katrina, as well) was clearly obvious. What used to be a lush forest, was now sparse and bare. It made me feel very sad. And while it certainly was better than nothing -- for me, my nature-deficiency wasn't really satisfied.
How about you? What do you do -- where do you go to connect with Mother Nature? Or do you? Do you ever feel a vague sense of restlessness that you can't quite identify? Maybe it's your own nature-deficit trying to get your attention!
Oh, Susan. You describe it so well. I never thought of a condition as Nature-Deficit disorder and I can picture it. This undoubtedly explains why so many of the subscribers to my PICTURE TO PONDER ezine write about the "restorative break" they get when opening and viewing the photo for the day in this twice-weekly emailing. (My signature below will link to it.) Putting it together is one way I stay connected with Nature.
In terms of my daily experiences, we lived in our home in Central, NJ for 37 years. The back of our house faced woods. When we moved to our home in Boynton Beach the back faced 4 large ficus trees pretty much blocking out the wall they covered. Though not destroyed by it, they were taken down after Katrina to prevent future problems. Lush green plants have filled in and kept some feeling of Nature there and it is WATER that is the most restoring element for me.
When my mother was dying many years ago in Florida, a hotel apartment on the beach, facing the ocean, and swaying palm trees, is what preserved my sanity and gave me some of the sustenance and healing that I needed.
In Old Bridge, NJ, I was 15 minutes from a bay and the place where taking over 3,000 photos of a beach restoration connected me with my soul, revealed to me my passion for photographing nature and helped me "own" my unique photographic eye.
Today I am most fortunate to live 5 minutes from Wakodahatchee Wetlands in Delray and even less from the new Green Cay Wetlands in Boynton Beach. Walks and absorbing water, wildlife, and Nature there restore me AND there are times when I need an added "fix". At those times a walk in the American Orchid Society Gardens in Delray, 15 minutes from me, is the added restorative.
Interestingly, many people have also told me in the past that when they needed a break in their day they would go to my first website, Nature's Playground, http:/www.naturesplayground.com and spend a few minutes with the Nature photo/drawings there.
Thank you, Susan, for this opportunity to reconnect with my passion as I start my day.
NATURally yours,
Sheila
Posted by: Sheila Finkelstein | March 12, 2006 at 09:25 AM