The Natural World

view outside from a window

We tend to think of our homes as wholly different from the natural world. And in some obvious respects, they are: houses are a human construction, in both design and execution. Further, the entire purpose of a house is to shelter us from the natural elements. Under a roof, the goal is always to stay dry, cool, or warm - usually in opposition to whatever is happening outdoors. But it’s worth examining the more subtle ways in which the environment not only influences our domestic spaces but shifts our own thinking as well.

We obviously build houses with windows and the reasons for this are myriad. One of the many gifts October brings is the opportunity to throw those windows open and breathe in fresh air. But many of us also have a spot in front of a window where we regularly sit. We start our day there, or we end it. Maybe read a book or the news. Drink a cup of coffee. Regardless of the activity, we sit there because it enables us to see outside and to situate our perspective within the world and not shut off from it. Likewise, we may have a space of our own but we remain in a neighborhood, a community, a small section of an expansive globe. That’s the key - or at least a variable - in establishing an integrated life: to make sure we have some privacy, some protection, and some aesthetic manifestation of our own beliefs. And also to recognize that we must always interact with what exists on the other side of that perimeter. In some cases, the natural world offers solace and beauty. At other times, it rages and threatens. But always, there is work for us to do on that other side: there is opportunity to offer help and kindness; there is the pull to do meaningful work; there are limitless interactions that might put someone else at the center of the universe, instead of ourselves. 

This dichotomy of space is part of the balance of being human. We go into the natural world to recharge, to learn humility, to know peace. We enter society to find companionship, to offer our skills, to develop generosity, to experience love. But - if we’re lucky - there’s a home to welcome us back in and to offer a space that simply comforts and protects us. One isn’t better than the other; they’re all essential in caring for ourselves and serving those around us. It’s worth remembering, during this time of often cataclysmic weather, that the multiple places in which we exist are often a privilege and that, if we can offer that figurative shelter to someone in need, it might be the greatest work we do.