Ecopsychology:
Reconnecting with the Natural World

Telling people that I’m into ecopsychology usually brings confused and curious looks. “Huh?” That’s okay with me. That’s my cue to talk about something that, in the realm of trying to make the world a better place, plays a big part. It’s a joining of two apparently “different” fields, ecology and psychology. When you get right down it, though, the Earth and our sanity are one and the same. It’s not anything new but perhaps something we forgot. But I’ll get to that.

In the early 90’s, frustrated environmentalists went to psychologists to figure out what they were doing wrong and asked, “Why don’t people change their ways despite our doom-and-gloom reports on global warming, acid rain, and so on? Don’t they care?” It would seem that knowing about pollution and resource depletion would make people want to recycle, drive less, and limit their consumption. Being told that not changing will lead to our own extinction would surely wake people up to find more sustainable ways of living, wouldn’t it?

Ecopsychologists, however, have found that people don’t care as long as they are disconnected from their environment and the natural world. Think of the number of people who spend the majority of their time in the concrete jungle, indoors or in their cars, staring at a television or computer screen, shopping, and eating fast food that came from the other side of the globe. “Nature deficit disorder” is now a term used for inner-city folks who have never spent time in natural settings. Put them in a deep forest and they’re scared to death, as they only know the artificial world of flat surfaces and right angles, sameness and predictability.

So, it goes to reason that bringing people back in touch with their surroundings and appreciating the deep connection we have had for our first 40,000 years here might bring about change. It’s what indigenous people have been telling us and is exactly what ecopsychologists hope to do. And the work of ecopsychology doesn’t take years of graduate school; it can be promoted by anyone who believes it, and by therapists, writers, educators, researchers, public speakers, political activists, shamans, environmental lawyers, or philanthropists.

The “big reconnect” might come from immersing in wilderness (like vision quests or hikes and camping or gardening in prisons), building community, encouraging less consumption, healing from our grief for the planet, preventing burnout in activists and environmentalists, empowering women and other oppressed peoples, and creating rituals to celebrate the Earth. Some people have told me they don’t feel any connection with the natural world and they spend little time outside. But I ask them how they feel when they catch a sunset alone, or look up at the stars on a clear night, or bite into a juicy watermelon. I ask them how they feel walking along a street heavy with cars or driving through an industrial area in a big city. I ask them if they prefer having the trees in their yard as opposed to not, or if they have any natural things in their home, like houseplants or pictures or an animal. I ask them if there was a connection as a kid. I believe there is a place to start in each of us.

It’s not all about saving the planet, however. When we talk about reconnecting with nature it might be more accurate to call it busting the illusion that we are separate from it. Maybe we just act like we’re not a part of it. Because while we’re busy pretending that we aren’t dependent on it for our very survival, we pay the price. Rates of depression, anxiety, addictions, and other emotional problems are at an all-time high, as well as prescriptions that supposedly treat them. Isolation. Lack of passion. Estranged families. Hatred and violence in communities and between nations. Suicide. Homicide. War. It’s widespread.

Countless researchers have looked at the effects of the environment on our own health and well-being. Nursing homes with plants or pets have fewer depressed patients. Kids with ADD can focus and do better in school after they’ve played outside in a park. Hospital patients with a window view of trees recovered faster and needed fewer pain meds than those with a view of a brick building. Areas in Chicago with the most greenery had 52% fewer crimes than those with the least plant life. It’s obvious from studies like these that the relationship between human health and nature runs far deeper than the quality of the air we breathe or water we drink.

Sarah Conn, PhD, one of the founders of the ecopsychology movement, describes the basic notion of ecopsychology as “recognition that the needs of the Earth and the needs of the human individual are interdependent and interconnected and that human sanity must include sustainable and mutually enhancing relations with the natural world.” It’s a mouthful-definition that I sure love to chew on. Terms like interdependent and interconnected are clearer when we think of our own bodies. I don’t have a relationship with my arms as something separate from me, for example, they’re just a part of who I am. And I’ll do anything I can to prevent someone from chopping them off. But if someone does, I’ll certainly know it and my life will be changed forever.

I can then extend interdependency to my loved ones. I may hold the illusion that I’m separate from them but I do depend on them on many levels. What happens to them happens to me in some way, and I will do almost anything to protect them. Can I now extend this idea of interdependency to all life forms and the ecosystem in which I live? Might I actually feel it on some level as they pollute the Great Lakes?

I’m a psychologist by training and spend most of my working hours counseling individuals here in Traverse City. As most of us, I began my profession doing it how I’d been taught, but before long I felt as though I was only helping my clients adjust to an insane world, rather than helping to make the world more sane. It felt like the practice in the 50’s of prescribing Valium to huge numbers of depressed and disempowered housewives to “help” them tolerate a life that lacked passion and purpose. Valium, in effect, quieted these women and kept them from listening to their anger and taking action. Meanwhile, I was also opening my eyes to our gross mistreatment of the planet, of animals, and of each other, and the overuse of the natural resources given us. This kind of behavior defines insanity. Taking the perspective of ecopsychology seemed the only way for me to think globally and act locally.

Now when I give counseling, it’s with the hope that we can address our personal problems and those of the world simultaneously.

Lisa Franseen, PhD, will be at the Great Lakes Bioneers Conference this October 2006 and will be presenting as a local speaker on ecopsychology: WANTED: A Paradigm Shift. Thinking Our Way to a New World. She has a private practice in Traverse City where she provides holistic counseling and earth-based healing.

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