An Ecotherapy Afternoon

This post isn't about some new idea in psychotherapy or counselling, or about the psychology of the social or environmental issues we collectively face. It's about the afternoon that I spent yesterday taking some of my own medicine - a dose of ecotherapy. The first thing I want to say is that it's so strange, that it takes getting a bit sick and run down and feeling like I have to stop running in the rat race, to actually give myself something different. 

Weaving through traffic and the unexpected traffic jams, I felt like I was making a prison break. I half expected that some last work commitment or emergency would stop me from getting to the start of the trail I was headed to at the base of the port hills. In hindsight I was actually worried that I'd flake out without a good excuse, and then have to face having sabotaged my own aspiration without even having an external barrier as a justification.

As I began to walk up the gentle (and then steep) uphill start of the trail, this slightly urgent anxiety to escape began to relax as I felt committed to the trail and direction I had selected. Soon this commitment began to shift to excitement and desire to see the view from the next crest of the hillside. I could feel my empty physical and emotional gas tank begin to refill. Pausing often, to turn around look behind, I began to get perspective on the city. No longer a trapping and limiting, stress and anxiety provoking maze through which I madly run, Christchurch had become a sweeping vista.

As I continued to climb, being an ecotherapist, I kept tuning in to the mental and emotional shifts that were happening inside of me. I noticed that as I began to sweat and glow from the climb, I began to feel more robust and confident, feeling my own capacity to work and progress and rise up over my previous foul mood. By the time I had reached the top I had also reached within myself a strong feeling of gratitude. This gratitude was towards myself, for having given myself this experience and worked for it, but also for having the amazing geography of the port hills so close by. The thought occurred to me: "I am made for this." And I think that's true. I, and you, were made to move through landscapes and to work physically, roam, to find new paths, and to trust the instincts of the body rather than a schedule or a fluorescent office environment. I don't happen to believe that a personal deity came along and made this world to suit my needs, but it's a pretty good moment when I spontaneously find myself feeling that evolution made me to enjoy walking, looking out at views, and feeling the wind on my face.

The descent felt less ecstatic, but still important. I'm not going to live the rest of my life (or even much of it) out on a hillside, as much as I can love it for a while. The impulse to escape the city had shifted to a readiness to return, a sense of warmth and tolerance towards the people and activities that I had needed a break from. Descending is not about ecstasy, it is about careful details of placing a foot in such a way that we do not slip or turn an ankle. As much as the details of my life persecute me at times, it was good to feel ready for rather than resistant to the painstaking detailed work of descending.

I'm glad to be able to share this experience with you through this blog post, but I'd like to take this further. A hell of a lot of research and my own experience tell me that those of us who struggle with issues such as anxiety or depression will find this sort of experience at least as beneficial as sitting in a therapy room with me. I look forward to starting up ecotherapy experiences this spring, so stay tuned for that!

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