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Writer's pictureThe Green Phoenix

The Antithesis to the Digital Age: Learning to Appreciate Our Outdoor World, by Alexandra DeMarco

Updated: Jul 17, 2020

There is no doubt that we are living in a digital age. In 2020, our lives are increasingly controlled by the way the internet and social media are used. Young people acquire much of their culture, slang and style from the internet, where they are free to connect with and learn from others around the world.


It is true that there are great benefits to our lives online. We are exposed to information from across the globe, stemming from a number of different viewpoints and societies. We can learn to dismantle our biases and correct our misguided ideas through simple research which, just a couple of decades ago, may have required a trip to the library and hours spent flipping through an encyclopedia. In the age of the internet, we are empowered to learn and make engaged choices, and the choice to free ourselves of ignorance is always ours. And during the recent pandemic, the internet has proven itself to be the most useful tool available to us when interacting with each other in-person may very well be a death sentence. The internet has saved us from complete social deprivation and allowed many of us to continue on with our lives while staying safe at home. Learning is beautiful, and the internet has greatly facilitated a new, better-than-ever form of learning. However, as the internet gives, it takes away as well.


Yes, we can call this era the age of information, but there is another term that, while approaching our lives from another angle, describes this modern existence just as well: an epidemic of loneliness. More and more, people learn to live online. They talk to their friends online. They hang out online. We sacrifice our in-person connection for a chat behind a screen with people who are not always as they seem. So many young people, members of Generation Z, have been deprived of the chance to learn certain social skills, because we have been permitted to learn how to communicate from behind the glass facade of a computer or smartphone screen.This has led to increased social anxiety among young people, which in turn may lead to depression and other mental health issues. And when we are not taught the proper social skills for the natural, age-old human interaction that requires face-to-face communication, we inevitably become lonely.


It is widely accepted that the internet and social media are the source of much anxiety for young people, whether that stems from comparing oneself to others, increased opportunities for F.O.M.O. or the inability to communicate face-to-face. We know this, and many of us fear this, but the internet is not going away. Social media is not going away, and it creates new stars and new livelihoods each and every day. Those jobs are not going away and now comprise a large part of the capitalist market.


So, what is the solution? Well, I believe that the solution lies outdoors. In my opinion, the outdoors are the antithesis to our lives on the internet. While beneficial in many, numerous ways, our lives on the internet are built on a pyramid of falsehood. For most people, a social media profile is just a glimpse into a sliver of one’s life, an ever-compressed version of the truth. And while I find it unhealthy to share everything online, it will always be true that social media can only ever represent a certain version of oneself -- the real person remains known only to oneself and the people who surround them. The internet, though valuable, does not always tell the truth, and whether it be general misinformation or a photoshopped body, the internet simply does not reveal what it means to be human.


Now, on the other side, there is nothing more real than nature. Whether you believe we were created by a higher power, the Big Bang or some combination of both, you cannot argue away the complexity of the outdoor world that we have been granted. On a planet more unique than any other we know of, there are millions of plants, animals and microscopic living beings. There are creatures more strange and more beautiful than could ever be imagined by the human mind, and there are landscapes so lush and green it is hard to believe they simply just grew that way.


In my own life, I have struggled with learning how to use the internet in a healthy way. I have grown up posting my life online for others to see. Over the years, the need to share things online has become a part of the regular attention I sometimes feel that I require. There were years where I didn’t consider this greatly. I knew that I thought long and hard about the photos I shared, and I knew that I felt anxious waiting for others to see them and like them, but I never truly considered the way that this routine was impacting me. But, after a year where everything seemed to be going wrong for me, I knew that something had to change, and I felt that that something should be my life online. So, I went outside.


Don’t get me wrong; I have never totally left social media, and I still frequently use it for work and other purposes. But, what I have changed is the degree to which I share. By taking just a few weeks at a time off of the main platforms I used, I realized that there was a way for me to exist without feeling I needed to be filled by the attention I received from these platforms. There was another way for me to feel connected to the world than sharing personal moments for many to view, comment on and like.


It started with a drive across the country. During a particularly difficult time in my life, I took a trip to Sante Fe with a few friends, and we drove out west all the way from Knoxville. One cannot overstate the magic of the American West. Watching the landscape change from the lush Tennessee greens of my youth to the rolling, sandy hills was like walking through a never-ending art gallery. As we approached our destination, the road became encaved by sandy cliffs with red dustings, bending toward the sun and revealing vast valleys full of cacti and cows. Fields of cotton and corn stretch farther than the eye can see in the flat parts of Oklahoma, which eventually give way to the mountains of New Mexico.


As we continued our drive, and I occupied much of my time gazing at my phone, I realized that I was missing something. I was missing the trip of a lifetime, missing the chance to watch the beauty of the world roll seamlessly by my window. At one point, we pulled off of Route 66 to get gas. We rolled into a small station surrounded by nothing but fields full of tumbleweeds. We thought that buying gas would be enough to justify a trip to the restroom, but upon going inside, the owner told us we needed to purchase something from the shop; he had to drive miles every morning to haul water out to the station and couldn’t just give away flushes for free. I bought a small pin that says “Route 66.”


After leaving the store, we explored the field surrounding the station before pulling away. It was vast and occasionally littered with large trash items, including a completely intact toilet. Standing out there, surrounded by nothing but tumbleweeds and fuel, I understood. I understood the value of this land, the value of travelling miles every morning just so that voyagers could stop at a small store along the way. I understood that this was not the time to be consumed by the internet, but the time to be one with the world; one with the world that I was born into and will forever exist in, at least in some capacity.


A meditation mantra by Thich Nhat Hanh I learned just a couple weeks after my trip accurately encapsulates the feeling: “I have arrived. I am home, in the here, in the now.”


The now is nature. It is what has always been, and it is what will always be. Our Earth exceeds the bounds of humanity, and it even exceeds the bounds of human connection. I promise you, allow yourself to traipse into nature, and you will find yourself to be infinitely one with the universe.


I made the decision to stop sharing my trip on social media, at least while I was still on the trip, after already posting several photos. I knew that experiencing the present moment and making journal entries about the beauties I experienced was more important than posing in front of the mountains and posting pictures of my adventures so everyone could see what a cool trip I was on. The journey was mine, not anyone else’s, and I realized that the true value of my trip should be discovered through my own reflection rather than creating a display for others to ponder. Please keep in mind -- I do not want to shame those who make their living off of social media or simply just enjoy it. For me, it had become a burden, and I want to share how I dealt with that situation.


That trip was a time to simply be and exist. In that one week I spent out West, I witnessed such great beauty. My friends and I slept in an Airbnb Tipi nestled in the New Mexican hills, where the stars shone brighter than anywhere else in the world and coyotes gently howled outside of our tent at nighttime. In the morning, I took walks alone through the hills, dotted frugally with dark green shrubbery, and once saw a mother coyote with her pup. The mother, who resembled a husky, was one of the most majestic creatures I have ever seen in the natural world. The pup looked like a regular American dog, golden yellow and small, and he loyally trailed behind his mother as they ran across the land and disappeared into the distance. The moment I spent standing there on the sandy hills, alone, has remained with me as one of the most brilliant moments of my life. It seems so simple, I know it is, but resting among one of the most beautiful landscapes this country has to offer and witnessing the simple yet intricate relationship between two terrifying yet majestic creatures made me feel so at home in this world. I knew that I was watching something so incredibly simple, something that had always been, yet something that was inherently so special just because it existed. How lucky I felt not to live on Mars, or not to be a meteoroid floating aimlessly through the abyss of space. I exist in a colorful world, with a complicated food chain and outdoor makeup, and in the simplicity of its relationships lies the key to its importance.


I still find the feeling I experienced when I saw those coyotes in other outdoor adventures, such as a simple hike up an East Tennessee mountain. Although I consider the Appalachian Mountains to be some of the most beautiful creations on this Earth -- and I’m biased -- every landscape on this planet has the ability to elicit the feeling I have described. You just have to embrace the opportunity to look at the nature presented to you and appreciate its existence, its complexity and its accessibility. Spend time mindfully walking outside. Let yourself notice the patterns of leaves and the bend of branches, and notice the small insects crawling up the sides of tree trunks. Swat at mosquitos when they bite you, but learn to admire that such a small little thing has to take on much larger animals in order to survive.


Life on earth is a marvel, and us human beings are a part of that. Living in our advanced homes with our computers and other machines, we may feel utterly disconnected from the natural world, from the animals that sneak across the dirt in search of their prey and who have spent the entirety of their lives outside. But we must go outside and remember that this Earth exists for us, too. We existed on Earth before technology, and we would continue to exist if the internet disappeared tomorrow. You may not enjoy camping and may prefer the feeling of clean feet to those caked with dirt, but take the time to get outside and remember that you, as a living being on this Earth, are inextricably linked to everything else that lives and breathes. John Muir said it best: "When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the Universe.”


Our outdoor world is a brilliant reminder that we are not alone. Amid the epidemic of loneliness, the towering plants and cooing birds of the outdoors are a beautiful representation of the unimaginable, yet definitively beautiful, intricacy that is our Earth.


As previously stated, nature is the antithesis to the internet. In nature, we are permitted to simply exist, as we were born to do, among others on this planet. It is important that we as humans learn to balance the necessity of our online lives with the significant calm of the outside world. I advise everyone to take the time to be outside without advertising the event on social media. Let yourself experience the marvel that is our world without the desire to try to explain it through the internet. Take the time to simply be, and remember that you are one with this world.


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