I lost my mum last week.
She died very suddently and will have felt no pain herself, but it has left everyone reeling with shock and disbelief at losing such a wonderful, active, life-loving woman with no warning.
I was with her when she passed away and, even during such a traumatic and chaotic time, I found moments of peace as I looked out on her garden, while the paramedics worked. It's astounding how my mind could focus on a tiny bee hovering over an allium, or a delicate seed-head dancing on the breeze; everything else moving in slow motion around me.
In the days following Mum's death, my world has been a whirlwind of telephone calls, appointments and paperwork. I've been through a myriad of emotions, as anyone who has lost a dear loved one will know. At times I feel such grief that I cannot bear it. It is at these times where I walk. I find somewhere that others aren't. I immerse myself in the natural world, where things are heartwarming and simple instead of heartbreaking and complicated.
So why is nature so good for the soul? What is it that causes my breathing to calm and tension to ease?
Science - apparently, bacteria in soils can activate neurons in our brains which, in turn, cause serotonin to be released. This hormone then creates feelings of calmness and happiness - nature scientifically proven to help with grief and pain. There has been research claiming even just a representaion of nature can make a positive difference to person's wellbeing. Indeed, the vases of flowers and natural scenes on the cards I've received from my wonderful friends have certainly made me smile.
Escape - for me, this is a massive part of it. To be solitary - away from all the professionals, services, well-meaning friends and family. I can lose myself in the natural world, where the tranquility and permanency settles me...I don't have to show a brave face, I'm safe in the knowledge that nature will quietly get on with being nature, without a thought for the mad woman with mascara streaks down her cheeks.
Connection - walking in the countryside is a feast for the senses. Seeing grass swaying in the sunlight, clouds gliding across the sky. Hearing the babbling of water over rocks and chirruping birds in the willow trees. Smelling the scent of early summer flowers and freshly cut meadow hay. Feeling the rough bark of an old oak and a warm breeze on my face. All of this connects me to the present, providing a sense of belonging and feeling of being at one with nature. It doesn't erase the pain, but it helps me realise there's something greater and bigger than the loss I'm feeling right now.
There'll be more tears, a few laughs and lots of memories shared over the next few weeks. But one of the resounding things I'll remember throughout this painful time is something I heard on a children's film many years ago, that has always stayed with me...
'Everything you see exists together in a delicate balance. As king, you need to understand that balance and respect all the creatures, from the crawling ant to the leaping antelope.'
'But Dad, don't we eat the antelope?'
'Yes, Simba, but let me explain. When we die, our bodies become the grass, and the antelope eat the grass. And so we are all connected in the great Circle of Life'
Lizzy
