Spending Time in Nature Won’t Make You Happier—Unless You Do This One Thing

One small key to making outdoor time truly restorative.

This is what presence looks like—four paws, one nose, and zero agenda.

Everyone says nature will make you feel better. Just go outside, they say. Breathe the fresh air. Touch a tree. Boom—inner peace. It’s practically a cliché at this point, this notion that the cure for modern malaise lies just beyond the trailhead.

But here’s the uncomfortable truth: you can hike for hours, surround yourself with chirping birds and dappled light, and still come home feeling just as wound-up and hollow as when you left.

Yesterday was Mother’s Day, and instead of brunch or gifts or anything that required me to wear an actual dress, I asked for one big thing—a long hike. My husband, my son, and my guide dog humored me. We headed out to one of the hilliest trails we could find (not easy in flat, sandy West Michigan) to continue training for our upcoming hut-to-hut trek in the Italian Dolomites. Twelve days of hiking through mountains means we’ve got work to do—and hills to find.

The weather was everything I could have hoped for: warm, breezy, and impossibly green. Even the mosquitoes, which left me with a few itchy reminders of spring’s return, couldn’t ruin the day. There’s something about being out there—moving my body, feeling the sun on my skin, surrounded by the people (and dog) I love most—that made the world feel quiet and spacious for a while.

But here’s what most people miss when they talk about the healing power of nature: being outside won’t make you feel better unless you’re actually present for it.

At one point during the hike, I realized I’d stopped noticing the woods entirely. My body was there, yes—but my mind had wandered off, rehearsing grocery lists, writing deadlines, and that one voicemail I still hadn’t answered. I was walking through the trees like I might walk through a grocery store—head down, thoughts elsewhere, just trying to get through it.

And then my trail-loving, flower-sniffing, very serious German Shepherd stopped dead in her tracks to investigate a garter snake she found in the brush. We stopped too. And just like that, the noise inside my head faded. I could hear the birds. I felt the sun warming the back of my neck. I remembered that I was here. Safe. Loved. Alive.

Healing didn’t sneak in through my boots. It showed up when I stood still long enough to notice it.

We treat time outside like a productivity hack. Go for a walk and feel better, right? But nature isn’t a transaction. It’s not a checkbox on your wellness to-do list. It’s an invitation to stop performing. To stop rushing. To stop constantly measuring your worth in steps taken or peaks reached. Nature works its magic when you stop trying to wring something out of it and start allowing yourself to receive.

If you want your next hike to be more than just cardio, try slowing down. Leave your phone in the car, or at least switch it to airplane mode. Give yourself permission to stop when something catches your attention. Skip the tracking app and listen to your breath instead. Walk like there’s nowhere to be but here.

Turns out, all those miles? Just a way to circle back to the version of you that knows how to be.

Book recommendation:

If this resonates, I highly recommend The Nature Fix by Florence Williams. It’s an insightful, beautifully written book that explores how time in the wild transforms our bodies and minds—and why presence matters more than proximity. It’s a favorite among Outdoor Book Club members for a reason.

(If you buy the book through this link, I may earn a small commission—at no extra cost to you. Plus, it helps support independent bookstores [and the Outdoor Book Club trail snack fund].)

Your turn:

When was the last time you felt truly present outdoors? What helps you drop back into the moment? I’d love to hear.