We are living through a time of enormous personal and collective change. Most of us are chronically jammed in fight, flight, or freeze , moving through our days with nervous systems stretched thin. And as U.S. Surgeon General Vivek Murthy reminds us, the antidote isn’t found in isolation — it’s in Social Prescription : deepening relationships, serving our communities, and rebuilding the threads of belonging that make us human.

There’s a word for the love we feel for special places: topophilia . For many visitors, one of those places is Chaminade Resort & Spa in Santa Cruz, where the redwoods create a sanctuary for restoration and balance.

“You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with.” – Jim Rohn

“The waves are roaring louder than ever — maybe it’s not just the ocean, maybe it’s the times we’re living in.”

“What amounts of nature, different nature experiences, and exposure to different sorts of nature, together constitute a healthy existence?” – Tim Beatley

A recent study from Finding Nature reveals something we might already sense: humanity has been steadily drifting away from the natural world for over two centuries. Using a fascinating model, researchers tracked the decline of nature-related words in books — words like river , blossom , moss . They found a drop of nearly 60%, suggesting not just a loss of vocabulary, but a loss of relationship.

This morning, I was walking along the gorgeous Moss Beach coastline with a dear friend. As we walked, we found ourselves talking about love — not the abstract, poetic kind, but the very real, everyday love and mutual fondness that exists between her, her husband, and myself. We paused as the birds around us suddenly began chirping, almost as if they were trying to catch our attention. My friend jokingly said, “Yeah, you’re whistling at me!” and, in that exact moment, a bird gave the perfect cat-call whistle. I bent over in laughter — such good medicine.

We walk through most of our days on autopilot. Our minds replay stories, rehearsed fears, hopes, and assumptions. Many of the beliefs that run us aren’t really ours—they’re inherited, absorbed, unexamined.

I did a year of Jungian dream work and learned how to lean into my dreams for guidance. That practice taught me that our unconscious has so much to share if we pause long enough to listen. Recently, I read Rubin Naiman’s book Healing Night and found myself pondering the benefits of letting the left brain rest — giving our thinking mind space to breathe.

A Forest Therapy Reflection