My Gap Year

I hate nature.

There, I said it. I know I’m supposed to love nature and derive pleasure from being out and about wherever I go in the world, trekking through jungles, camping in the wilderness and generally experiencing what the natural world has to offer. But I don’t.

I was in Belize a number of years ago, staying at Francis Ford Coppola’s jungle lodge (which, at the time, had the only pizza oven in Central America), and it was situated amidst lush vegetation; you could hear the birds calling and the leaves rustling in the breezes that blew through the palms. My most vivid memory of the place? A millipede dropped from the roof with a thud onto my chest in the middle of the night, and I wound up with a swollen, red bite on my finger when I brushed it off.

Then there was the time we went to the jungle in Peru and stayed at an ecolodge in Puno. It was sweltering and humid in a way I had never experienced before. For some reason, our guide insisted on taking us on nature walks in the middle of the day. I gained a new understanding of the soldiers’ suffering on the Bataan Death March. My sons took turns taking cold showers every 15 minutes. I tried to get us on a plane out sooner than we had planned for, and was prepared to pay almost any amount of money to make that happen. No flights were available, so we were stuck. Misery doesn’t capture the feelings I had.

I joke that I’m a city boy – there was the time in Egypt when I saw animals on the hillside along the Nile and wanted to know why there were so many stray dogs. I was embarrassed when told that they were goats, not dogs. My parents shared a distaste for nature – their idea of nature was taking us to a petting zoo. When we were kids, my brother and I were signed up to go on a horseback ride in Arizona. My mother took us to the paddock and announced that we were two Jewish boys from New York who had never been on horses, so we needed to be taken care of. I don’t think there’s a hole deep enough on planet Earth that would have allowed me to escape that particular mortification.

I think this is why Japan surprised me as much as it did. The experience of nature made sense to me there. When visiting a temple garden, there is that juxtaposition of elements that simultaneously feel natural but also organized. The tranquility of the plants, rocks and waterfalls were placed by an artist that consciously decided where every plant, rock and waterfall should go. There is a mastery there that is truly awe inspiring. A number of rocks surrounded by gravel that is carefully raked in patterns becomes a work of art, inspiring an overwhelming sense of peace that allows for quiet contemplation.

Kyoto in particular resonated with me. The temples and shrines were beautiful and impressive, but the gardens associated with those buildings really spoke to me. I don’t know who created the rock garden at Ryoan-ji, but there was genius at work there. I experienced the same thing on Naoshima Island at the Lee Ufan Museum. His works incorporate natural elements with modern structures in a way that clearly draws from historical Japan.*

The longer I stayed in Japan, and the more guides I met, I became convinced that the sense of harmony between man and nature is closely tied to the most common religions practiced in Japan – Shinto and Buddhism. I also learned that many Japanese practice both religions – they are ultimately consistent with one another and hold many of the same precepts. My understanding of these religions is admittedly limited, but I’ve done my best to grasp the basic tenets of each.

Shinto is a polytheistic and animistic religion, centering around supernatural entities known as kami. The kami are believed to inhabit all things, including forces of nature and prominent landscape locations. I learned that kami are conceptually fluid, and the term is often applied to the power of phenomena that inspire a sense of wonder and awe in the beholder. Everywhere you turn in Japan, you find shrines dedicated to different spirits; the shrines themselves seem in harmony with their surroundings, and the rituals attached to Shinto prayers are unspoken. There is bell ringing, a specific number of claps and bows and a silent meditation before the shrines.

Similarly, Buddhism generally views nature with deep respect, emphasizing a gentle, non-violent, and interconnected relationship rather than one of dominance or exploitation. The Dalai Lama has said, “our planet is our house, and we must keep it in order and take care of it if we are genuinely concerned about happiness for ourselves, our children, our friends, and other sentient beings who share this great house with us. If we think of the planet as our house or as “our mother” – Mother Earth – we automatically feel concern for our environment. Today we understand that the future of humanity very much depends on our planet, and that the future of the planet very much depends on humanity.”**

So I come back to my antipathy towards nature with a new perspective. I don’t have to battle with nature, try to control it, or want to escape it. My experience in nature doesn’t have to be “managed;” instead, I can try to find harmony with it. I can just be. I don’t think I’ll ever love jungles or bugs, but I might every now and again experience a sense of peace and tranquility in an environment with the realization that I’m part of the larger world, and the larger world is also a part of me. There are still so many places left for me to visit during my gap year – mountains, jungles, deserts, and whatever else there is await. I can resist nature or I can become a part of it. I’ve lived with resistance – I think I’m ready to try something new. Who knows? Maybe I’ll even try horseback riding again.

* Compare these two images: https://www.flickr.com/photos/ellens_album/9275996782 and https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ry%C5%8Dan-ji#/media/File:Kare-sansui_zen_garden,_Ry%C5%8Dan-ji,_Kyoto_20190416_1.jpg. If you ever make it to Naoshima, I highly recommend the Lee Ufan Museum. The architectural design of the museum is worth the visit in and of itself.

** https://www.dalailama.com/messages/environment/universal-responsibility