It is necessary to rediscover our “enchanted gardens”

Returning from a mountain excursion means coming back with a fresh perspective on oneself, others, and the world. It means reconnecting with a reality of life that nourishes us through its beauty: this very concrete experience—of the earth we tread, the rocks we touch, the snow we pack, or the wind we feel—is ultimately spiritually formative, reaching far beyond the physical body. And beyond the act of mountain climbing, the often contemplative experience of a night in a tent shapes us, restores us, and grounds us, while simultaneously guiding us in our search for and choice of our posture as human beings.

Restricting our access to the outdoors in the name of our health highlights the ultimately secondary place granted to our connection with nature in our society. These phases of lockdown that have long deprived, and continue to deprive, certain populations of nature—regardless of whether or not they were effective—have repercussions that cannot be ignored. According to an Ifop study published on November 9, the number of people suffering from anxiety, sleep disorders, depression, sadness, and even despair is only increasing, particularly among those who do not have access to outdoor spaces in their homes.

This egalitarian relationship with the elements connects us to our body, to nature, to others, and to our human smallness.

And what of the questions of equality raised by the one-kilometer travel limit for all those whose restricted perimeter did not grant them access to nature? This matter of conscience will remain relevant for a number of us despite the extension of the authorized travel perimeter to twenty kilometers. This difference in treatment is comfortable neither for those who are deprived of it, nor for those who arbitrarily benefit from it, with varying degrees of guilt. Nature is indifferent to these discrepancies. Under a rumbling storm, facing the intensity of the void, feeling the bite of the cold, or confronted with the enchantment of the landscape, there are no nuances in terms of age, wealth, or even experience. This egalitarian relationship with the elements connects us to our body, to nature, to others, and to our human smallness. It also puts into perspective the individualism that lurks for each of us at home behind our screens, in contrast to the solidarity within a rope team, which is not an option but a necessity. Even setting out alone into the mountains can be a way to connect with others when, upon returning, one keeps the promise to come back laden with a deeper vision of everything that surrounds us.

Far from this virtual world that continues to expand in the context of the health crisis in an attempt to maintain social bonds, access to nature is a Universal right whose qualifier deserves to be written with a capital letter. In addition to the freedom of movement guaranteed by the Constitution, some argue that access to nature could be considered a fundamental liberty of constitutional value in France, referring to the Charter for the Environment. But beyond the question of rights, one certainty prevails: the beneficial effect of contact with living things and physical activity on a great number of pathologies, whether related to lockdown or not. Here again, scientific studies abound, as highlighted by numerous doctors who declare themselves in favor of reasoned access to nature.

More than a need, it is a necessity.

At Samaya, we believe that, through a bivouac, the peace one feels when descending from a summit is the result of a subtle alchemy that cannot be summarized solely by the hormones generated by physical effort. Complex, it is also composed of the flashes of light that have passed through us up there. If “every soul is and becomes what it contemplates,” as Plotinus thought, then let us hope that very soon the vast majority of us will be able to (re)connect with nature by right and be imbued with it. More than a need, it is a necessity.