Submitted by Chioma Onyewuchi, Families In Nature
Born in Nigeria, Chioma Onyewuchi moved to the USA while a freshman in college, and has built a home for her and her family there. Below is her #LoveNature story and why it’s important for her to pass on that love to her children. In a more in-depth essay which appears on the Children & Nature Network’s Finding Nature News, Chioma expands on her children’s moments outside while also diving into the complexities of cultural differences in spending time outdoors.
Like every other parent, I want the absolute best for my children. My life experiences have taught me that the things that make up a Good Life are both material and immaterial; and, for me, time in nature is the very best of both. I want to give my children the things that touch the soul at the very deepest level, and I frankly cannot give them that if we are not outside. I want to give them wonder and awe; beauty and hope; joy and delight. I want them to feel the mysterious comfort of a cool breeze on days that are hard, and the grateful ache of their hearts as they encounter an unforgettable sunset sky.
There are countless studies that have shown how beneficial time in nature is for humans, and particularly so, for children. Time with the natural environment has been shown to have benefits for the physical body, like a stronger immune system and better sleep; mental health, like reduced stress and anxiety; a greater sense of psychological well being; and for those with a spiritual life, a deeper spirituality. As mammals, time in nature is truly part of our wild heritage; we are a necessary part of an interconnected ecosystem, an inextricable part of a living whole.
Yet, quite frankly, these studies and important pieces of research are the last things on my (conscious) mind when I am outdoors with my children.
Though I eagerly read books, articles, and studies on the subject, spending time outdoors with my children is more instinctual than anything else. None of these specific benefits are at the top of my mind when we are out; instead, what is irresistible for me is simply restoration. I am seeking a balm for an overwhelmed, overstretched nervous system that has been battered by the echoes and hammerings of children’s inevitable indoor noises. I am desperately seeking a change in my lenses – striving to return to a perspective of mothering that looks at her children with delight, rather than extreme irritation.
In this, Nature is my motherhood ally. She takes my hand and allows me to see afresh the wonderful essence of my children. “Look,” She says, “the children are the same. They have not changed. It is only the environment that has.” Then, I take a deep breath and lean into awe as I watch them as they are. I receive the laughter and yells of delight as precious vibrations against my ears again; somehow, the noise is now converted into music. Yes, the sounds are the same, but the sky seems to combine the loud yells of their voices with the song of the birds to create glorious harmony. Free from the restraints of walls and ceilings, their bodies are no longer the prisoners of rigid enclosures: they are truly set free – and so, too, am I.
My heart fills with admiration as I watch my children climb trees, especially ones that they could not climb just yesterday. When they come down, they might have leaves in their hair, and mud on their feet. The joy and adventure, risk and reward, of every second they spend outside is more than worth it.
I want to be the mother of children who are whole, who know that they belong everywhere goodness, joy, beauty and delight may be found.
That is why I take my children outside.