I find it hard to imagine a life without access to the magnificence of nature. In today’s technological world, it is easy to forget that we are part of her extended family, a distant cousin to all of her creations. We forget that we are living beings who require sunshine and fresh air in order to thrive. We forget that we are part of the continuum that gazes down upon us in the night sky. We forget that we too are stardust.
For many years the scientific community has recognized the potential restorative power that nature can have in our lives. Evidence exists that our brain waves actually change when we are surrounded by vegetation and nature. Over thirty years ago scientist Roger S. Ulrich became the first scientist to utilize an electroencephalograph (EEG) to monitor the brain wave activity in adults as they viewed photos of nature and then photos of urban cityscapes. Results indicated that when we view lush scenes of nature, we have higher alpha wave activity in our brains, which results in a relaxed state of being and lower anxiety levels. It is important to keep in mind that participants in these studies were only looking at photos. Just imagine the calming effects that transpire when we are physically present and witnessing nature firsthand.
This news is was not too surprising, since mankind has recognized this truth for thousands of years. Since the earliest days in Chine, Persia, and Greece, we have understood that contact with nature reduces stress and promotes well-being. I think that most of us know this instinctively. So why do our modern healthcare institutions neglect this ancient understanding when constructing facilities? Why is our fundamental need to commune with nature not considered when creating care plans for the sick, elderly, and cognitively impaired? I may not know the answers to these questions, but I do know that we cannot rely on facilities or institutions to connect our loved ones to the healing power of nature.
Physical and spiritual renewal cannot occur when we are closed up in a building with little natural light or fresh air. No, we need opportunities to feel the softness of grass under our feet or to touch the smooth bark of a crepe myrtle. I pity the person who never feels the soft warmth of sunshine on their face or smells the bright green fragrance of spring. No amount of environmental air filters or aerosol sprays can replace the smell of trees swaying in the wind on a soft summer’s afternoon.
As I have told you before, in my early days as a caregiver my main focus was that Nan’s daily physical needs were being met and that her environment was safe and secure. I am certain that today most of your energy is being spent in the same way. However, as time went on and I came to know other patients and observe their behavior, I soon realized that these issues are just baseline concerns. Yes, they are paramount to the life of the patient, but they are just the beginning, the foundation which enables them to experience the fullness of life. I came to realize that Nan needed more than just food, water, sleep and help with rudimentary hygiene. She needed to engage with elements that would make her life rich and meaningful.
No life is one dimensional. In order to be fulfilled and find happiness each of us must have a multitude of experiences that reinforce our well-being. We must feel alive and a part of the world around us. We must experience simple joys like crisp autumn days spent under bright blue skies. Nature has the power to infuse our lives with the innate sense of peace. And this does not change as we grow older or become impaired. Just because they have limitations does not mean that the positive influence of nature cannot bring incredible happiness into the lives of our loved ones. Nature can elevate them from a state of merely existing into the soaring heights of feeling completely alive.
The Dementia Connection 