By Marian Caiem

Guest Columnist

We have entered extended winter in Maine. My friends down South are starting to appear in shorts and sandals in their photos, and me? I’m hoping for another solid snow to play in before this period of dormancy awakens. Each season offers new ways to experience myself in Nature’s healing environment, and I never tire of her medicine. 

At work, it is a different story. On a milieu of men and women choosing to detox from substance use, the daily conditions inside their bodies are the main event. We wait for the symptoms to subside, for the blood pressure to come back in range, for the cravings to decrease, and for the anxiety to quiet. The storm has been within, and they wait for their bodies to return to homeostasis to see just how deep life has gotten before they begin to shovel their way out. 

Located in the middle of the city, our building of recovery is surrounded by rooftops and parking lots with a glimpse of the bay if you crane your head to the right. But at the medication window, I hear about the wonderful towns everyone calls home. And sometimes, especially from the younger faces, I hear laments of being from rural Maine where there is nothing to do. 

Nothing to do? 

I join their lament and tell them how I scour my calendar for white space in hopes of being able to drive to their hometown, find a trailhead, and feel at home among the trees and birds and skies for a day. Nothing to do. 

There was a study that came out of Stanford recently confirming what many of us feel — that being outdoors changes brain chemistry for the good. Those who wander in naturalized outdoor spaces as opposed to urban sidewalks and parks had reduced risk of depression and obesity. In short, if we want to feel better inside, get outside. All it takes is between 17 and 42 minutes a day, as the shifts in dopamine (the feel-good hormone) and serotonin (the mood and sleep hormone) do much of the work of mental wellness for us. 

As we stand at the medication window and swap stories, I wish for rules and regulations to be a little looser in healthcare settings so that my clients and I could wander in winter’s lessons together, allowing the shifts in brain chemistry do some of the heavy lifting as they shovel out of their addiction patterns. Addiction, from what I observe, slowly snips away at the cords of connection to self and to others. Nature, from what I observe, repairs that broken cord of connection one step, and evidently one minute, at a time. 

If 17 to 42 minutes a day is all it takes to create an environment within our minds that can foster and grow a sense of wellbeing, I wish for nature to become our next recovery center. So perhaps this week, I will invite someone who I know is struggling into the woods with me, and we can walk in the last of this winter season before it all awakens. Will we smile because of the beauty or the dopamine? And will it matter?