- Renee Comings
- Nov 28, 2024
- 7 min read
Los Angeles is the worst city I have ever lived in. To be fair, I was going through the breakup of a lifetime and doing some major healing, but I’d be lying if I said I would have liked it much better in the absence of those things.
I also didn’t quite enjoy living in New Haven, Connecticut, but for entirely different reasons. Los Angeles was a cacophony of cramped, expensive apartments in a drought-ridden, polluted, and ego-driven environment. No green spaces. No outdoor escape from the heat. New Haven was just… loud.
My neighbors in Connecticut were always up to something, whether it be screaming matches, running up and down the stairs many times in a row (Olympic training, perhaps?), or throwing their trash in any place they could find that wasn’t the dumpster. I think out of everything, the road noise downgraded my quality of life the most. Something about assholes on motorcycles really boils my blood.
I say all of this because, since I graduated college, I feel that I’m constantly having to defend the places I choose to live. My career is in film and marketing. In my family's eyes, I would be much more successful traversing the streets of New York City or West Hollywood, instead of the rural New England town I now reside in, population of 9,000 and no large chain grocery stores. In the 4 years of my life outside of schooling, I’ve been told, not asked, what is right for me, and my family has gone so far as to say that I am limiting my career potential because of where I choose to live.
It’s true, my career prospects would be entirely different, perhaps even better, if I was living in a city. But my mental state wouldn’t be. And aren’t those things irrevocably intertwined? When one fails it can be monumentally difficult to maintain the balance of the other.

It does seem kind of silly to me sometimes that I’ve ended up where I am. Because for the longest time I was convinced I was going to live in a major city. I had a dream that I was going to be a big time female film director, with many great works of art and swanky outfits. The type of famous where people recognize your name but not your face. Quietly rich.
After college I had a change of heart. I spent the months after my graduation living in Pennsylvania with my mother during lockdown, staring at my LinkedIn page and trying to figure out how to make money in an economy that was completley upended. I found my solace outdoors, connecting deeply to the twisting, forested trails that bordered the suburbs I was residing in. The relative quiet chaos of nature gave me a type of peace that I couldn’t find inside, even while meditating or doing yoga. It helped that this peace was only within a few steps of leaving the house.
I would sometimes think about what it would be like to live in a city as I walked along these quiet, green corridors that were bursting with life. Was I willing to give up this kind of peace for money? For the prospect of a better career? As I watched a world saturated with Covid swirl and reinvent itself around me, my definition of a successful career also shifted.

I recently saw a headline by the Washington Post about how birdsong is good for our mental health. Apparently even 6 minutes of recorded birdsong can increase our mood and overall well being. It’s one of those things you read that feels obvious - who doesn't love a good bird call? Some of my favorites are the wail of a loon, the cascading sound of veery song, and the many beautiful calls of a song sparrow. I can attest to feeling in a better mood after hearing those sounds. But my 'overall well being' increasing? Interesting...
This prompted digging around for studies on the relationship between nature and mental health. Studies like this one, which found that spending 2 hours a week in green spaces had monumental impacts on our bodily, mental, and perceived well-being.
By the time I was reading these papers, I was living in New Haven, and I resonated deeply with the findings. I no longer had peace right outside my door - instead I lived in a neighborhood that was not within walking distance of any green spaces. If you wanted to go anywhere resembling a park or a walking trail, you needed to get a ride. I was sharing a car with my fiancé at the time, and I felt pain for those around me without any type of car, without ready access or transport to greenspaces.
I lay awake at night reading Silent Spring and wondering about the effects of pollution and development, not only on our non-human relatives, but on our own populations, and even more subtly, on our subconscious minds. I was (and still am) anxious about how capitalism is continuously pushing for more development and depletion of greenspaces, and what that will mean for the world and how we connect with it. I encourage us all to think about the effects we have on this world, how we can diminish our impact as a society, and what the systems in place are contributing to the current problems.
So why does nature calm us down?
From what I’ve found, there’s no one answer. If I had to speculate, it’s because not a lot of what fills our modern schedules is anything akin to how or why we evolved. We aren’t supposed to be sitting in front of computers and machines all day… I’m happy we have these inventions, but our brains are definitely wired to forage in the woods for food, not send out emails.

Louise Delagran, MA, MEd at University of Minnesota writes “...environments can increase or reduce our stress, which in turn impacts our bodies. What you are seeing, hearing, experiencing at any moment is changing not only your mood, but how your nervous, endocrine, and immune systems are working.”
She goes on to say “Exposure to nature not only makes you feel better emotionally, it contributes to your physical wellbeing, reducing blood pressure, heart rate, muscle tension, and the production of stress hormones.” (This was mind-blowing to me!)
As I dug into the research, I found one particularly interesting thought process called ‘The Attention Restoration Theory.’ This theory speculates that the level of attention needed to live and work in cities and modern places of employment is quite high, whereas within a natural environment, people are able to pay attention with much less effort, leading to higher levels of relaxation in body and mind.
Another finding I loved was the practice of ‘forest bathing’–particularly popular in Japan. Forest bathing is, simply put, walking in the woods, and is thought to allow the inhalation of aerosols which in turn promote certain cells in the immune system that fight tumors and infections. And, voilà, you are healthier just from walking in the woods.
How can you maximize the benefits of being in nature if you have minimal access to green space?
I’m glad you asked. If you don't have a car, please figure out your local bus system! There are also online groups you can join who hike together, or do other outdoor activities together. Be safe with meeting strangers from online, but if you are able to safely do so, you might develop a new friendship - hopefully someone with transportation!
As I mentioned before, Mathew White says that people who spend “two hours a week in green spaces… were substantially more likely to report good health and psychological well-being.” For those with busy schedules (AKA most of us), he suggests spreading these two hours out across your week. That’s less than 20 minutes a day. Or, you could take your weekend to spend those 2 hours in nature.
Also - having plants and flowers in your house has a heavy pay-out. They can significantly reduce stress, anxiety, and pain, according to research done on hospital patients by Robert Ulrich. He found that having nature present in hospital rooms did wonders for patients' perceived levels of pain, and even shortened the length of their hospital stay.
If you cannot get outside, or the spaces you do have access to just aren't cutting it - utilize the effects of birdsong by listening to it on Youtube. Not my favorite solution, but definitely worth a shot.

I know I trash talk cities a lot, but they are so important, and there is no avoiding the fact that as our populations grow, these conversations need to happen much more frequently. If these greenspaces are doing wonders for our mental and physical health, they should be treated as essential to our survival. I cringe away from a future with less of these spaces, replaced by more stressors and concrete.
Even in Los Angeles there were tiny pockets of priceless repose - trails leading to desert gardens and small, shady parks; mountain hikes with prickly cacti; grassy corners in the middle of a populated city. These spaces were invaluable to me when I lived there– I needed them. They would make me feel calmer and a bit more grounded amidst the craziness around me.
With this information in hand, I hope you feel closer to your evolutionary roots and use that knowledge to better your life in the small ways that we can.
Much to my family’s dismay, I am now living in rural New Hampshire, and I can truly attest to the stark difference being surrounded by nature (and the lack of human-caused noise) can make on mental well-being. Oh, and the mushroom foraging out here is amazing. Maybe they should do a study on that next.
Stay Well Out There!
XX,
Renee
