We must rewild ourselves if we want to rewild the planet. The idea of rewilding—of healing ourselves to heal the Earth—is neither new nor revolutionary. The term "rewilding" has been associated with ecological restoration since the 1990s. Yet in the last decade, this concept has taken root in new ways, particularly the notion that personal transformation is intricately tied to the healing of our planet.

Books abound on this theme: how immersing ourselves in nature’s presence can offer emotional healing, rediscovery of purpose, and spiritual purification. Many authors have chronicled their journeys of wonder and awe, recounting how the natural world became both their sanctuary and teacher. Some of my favorites include Something in the Woods Loves You by Jarod K. Anderson, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard, and The Lion Tracker’s Guide to Life by Boyd Varty. Others, like Helen Macdonald’s H is for Hawk and Katherine May’s Enchantment, illuminate the ways nature becomes a mirror, reflecting truths we are often too busy or afraid to see.

This narrative must, and often does, go further – enlivening our connection to nature inspires us to appreciate, protect, and advocate for natural spaces and wildlife. Marc Bekoff’s Rewilding Our Hearts (2014) explores how personal rewilding fosters compassion and coexistence with the Earth’s creatures. Robin Wall Kimmerer’s Braiding Sweetgrass (2013), Asia Suler’s Mirrors in the Earth (2022), and Dr Jennifer Grenz’s Medicine Wheel for the Planet (2024) all underscore how healing ourselves through nature awakens a sense of responsibility to care for the natural world, blending personal growth with ecological stewardship.

In her poem Sometimes, Mary Oliver offers us a guide to this with elegant simplicity:

Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.

The authors I’ve mentioned paid attention. They were astonished. And they told their stories. We need more people to experience this and share their stories. My dream is for more people to follow their example—to immerse themselves in nature’s healing embrace and share the transformative power of its lessons. Storytelling itself is a form of healing, a way of transmuting individual experience into collective wisdom. I think that as individuals, finding meaning in nature and telling our story about it is the single most impactful thing we can do for ourselves and for our planet.

For those who seek truth and meaning, nature offers it freely, much as religious texts, meditation, or art might. Meaning exists wherever we are willing to find it. The more we open ourselves to the infinite sources of guidance around us, the more wonder we allow into our lives.

Yet, we are creatures of habit. Once we discover a wellspring of meaning—be it in scripture, tarot cards, astrology, or dream interpretation—we often return to it exclusively. It becomes our compass, and we cling to it, sometimes overlooking other paths to wisdom. It doesn’t mean that any particular source is wrong, it just means that we are often limiting where we receive our meaning and guidance from. Truth is not a monolith; it is a mosaic. Expanding our sources of meaning can ignite awe and cultivate a richer, more magical existence.

‘It’s about having humility and openness about where our lessons come from. It’s about gaining wisdom to know when to apply which lens and bring different world views together. It is about the bravery of making your work personal.’ – Dr Jennifer Grenz

When we find meaning, curiosity follows. It becomes a bridge to respect and deeper understanding. For instance, the bird that calls to me from the telephone wire as I leave my house is no longer just a bird—it is a teacher. I want to know its name and its role in the intricate web of life. Knowledge sharpens our ability to interpret the messages nature offers, until those messages feel as clear as spoken words.

The turkey buzzard, once just a “scary black bird” to me, has revealed itself as a sacred symbol of renewal, transformation, and the cyclical beauty of life and death. I think this is why birdwatching often becomes a cherished pastime in retirement: we finally slow down enough to see the magic we overlooked in our youth. We rediscover that the enchantment of childhood was not in the world’s novelty but in our own presence within it. By being present, we can notice the unique beauty and magic and meaning offered by a single bird.

For those accustomed to finding guidance in familiar places, I challenge you: look to nature. Let it become your scripture, your mentor, your mirror. Indigenous traditions have long recognized the divine in rivers, trees, animals, and weather events, praying to them for guidance. In returning to this ancient wisdom, we can find balance and reciprocity—not just with the Earth but with one another.

Vincent Van Gogh saw divinity in every corner of creation and noted that all nature seems to speak. He exclaimed:

‘I do not understand why everyone does not see and feel it; nature does it [communicates] for everyone who has eyes and ears and a heart to understand.’

We don’t have to go off into the wilderness like Cheryl Strayed or Bill Bryson or Thoreau in order to experience nature’s healing. The wild’s whispers are not confined to untouched forests or remote mountaintops. They echo in backyards, city parks, and even the cracks in a sidewalk. They can even appear in the form of a photo, a painting, a sculpture in someone’s yard, a movie you watch, or a passing word.

For those unsure where to begin, observation is the first step. For me, the second step was looking into spiritual interpretations of nature from Indigenous frameworks, cultural traditions, myths, and folklore, religious and mystical texts, Jungian and archetypal psychology, and new age and contemporary spirituality. Luckily, ChatGPT is able to provide spiritual interpretations drawing on all of these sources at once. Unfortunately, however, ChatGPT and other AI tools require a staggering amount of water and electricity to cool data centers when generating content. If you choose to use these tools, I urge you to write down the meanings you generate and refrain from repeating queries. Let’s preserve this meaning in writing and memory rather than in the data centers that strain our natural resources.

Even the direction in which you encounter a creature—left or right—can carry significance. In many spiritual traditions, the right is associated with active, expressive, and decisive energies, while the left is associated with intuitive, receptive, and creative energies. Learning to harmonize these dual aspects within ourselves fosters a deeper sense of balance. Nature is continually offering insights to guide this process, mirroring our inner landscape with remarkable clarity. When we observe and interpret these reflections, whether through the flutter of a butterfly or the pause of a hummingbird, we gain the clarity to act in ways that align with our authentic needs. This communion with the natural world invites us to step into greater alignment with the rhythm of life and the harmony within ourselves.

I am working on a book about my own journey—how I learned to hear the truths carried by the wind, mirrored in the flow of the river, and reflected in the flight of a heron. Most importantly, it’s about how I allowed these natural whispers to guide my choices in life and love. If you are writing a similar story, keep going. Your voice matters deeply. The future of our planet may depend on these stories, on our collective ability to inspire reverence and reciprocity with the natural world.

Thanks for reading My Waterful Life!

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