Why Environment matters and how it affects the nervous system

Noise, Nature, and the Nervous System: Why Our Environments Matter

The Days of Busyness

Most days, we move through life unaware of the silent alarms in our nervous system. The endless responsibilities, buzzing phones, and constant noise of modern life keep us in a cycle of pushing down, ignoring, or pushing through just to check off the next task.

I didn’t realize how much my nervous system was overloaded—until it began to quiet down.

An Evening Walk to Deming Farm

It was around 7 PM when I finally decided to take a walk. Half a mile from my house lies Deming Farm, a beautiful stretch of land that always seems to carry healing energy. What began as a rushed process to “get exercise in before dusk” soon became something much deeper.

Fifteen minutes into the walk, I noticed the chaotic energy inside me—noise, frustration, angst, even physical pain—begin to drop away. Surrounded by fresh air and open space, my mind began to quiet. My body softened. My nervous system began to reset.

Nature had done its work.

The Medicine of Nature

Nature is medicine because it clears the mental fog. In noisy environments, we lose touch with our clarity, unable to hear the subtle “real sound” of life around us. We adapt to traffic, alarms, arguments, barking dogs, and the nonstop hum of electronics. But our nervous systems remain on alert.

Halfway through my walk, I removed my headphones, letting the natural sounds and my own breath mix with faint background music. As I approached the farm, the inaudible music came to life again. This shift reminded me: clarity only emerges when noise recedes.

This is a microcosm of how the nervous system works—drowned out by constant stimuli until we slow down enough to listen.

Environments Shape Us

We are products of our environments. Living in a city or in rural Maine, Montana, or even overseas carries vastly different energies. Noise, isolation, survival, safety, and connection—each creates a different nervous system imprint.

Where there is war, the nervous system longs for safety. Where there is isolation, it longs for connection. Where there is overstimulation, it longs for stillness.

When we feel safe, our vision softens. Our eyes relax. Our perspective widens. We can “see behind our eyes”—a phrase I use to describe perceiving from the soul, through the third eye, with trust and clarity.

But when we don’t feel safe, the opposite happens: our vision narrows, our breath shortens, and we live from fight, flight, or freeze.

Education and the Nervous System

As an educator, I see this play out in our schools. Many children are caught in states of alarm—especially in overstimulated, overcrowded environments. These are not places for learning or connecting. Instead, they mirror holding tanks of stress, shaped by a one-size-fits-all education system that doesn’t honor the different energies of each state or community.

Children today face additional stressors: chronic absenteeism, behavioral challenges, bullying, instant exposure through social media, and unstable home environments. Many have sensitive nervous systems already pushed past their limit.

Learning cannot happen in this state.

A New Beginning for Schools

If we truly want children to learn, schools must start the day with a nervous system reset. We cannot assume a child’s state when they walk through the door. Instead, we must meet them where they are—offering practices that ground, regulate, and prepare them to connect.

This could be as simple as:

• Breathwork or meditation

  
  
  
  

• Short nature walks

  
  
  
  

• Journaling or reflection

  
  
  
  

• Group conversations to foster safety and belonging

  
  
  
  

• Music, yoga, or sound healing

  
  
  
  

• Physical activity to release stagnant energy

  
  
  
  

Every state knows its environment best. Each school can design its own way of starting the day, but the goal should be the same: safety, connection, and readiness to learn.

The Bigger Lesson

The truth is this: our environments shape our nervous systems. If we want to raise healthier children and healthier communities, we must create spaces where safety, love, respect, gratitude, and patience are the foundation.

When we feel safe enough to relax behind our eyes, we see differently. We learn differently. We live differently.

As Wayne Dyer said in his Rule Number Six: Don’t take life so seriously. Much of what we stress about is programming, fueled by noise and distraction. What truly matters is the energy we cultivate, the safety we provide, and the presence we bring to one another.

Because when we feel safe, we don’t just learn—we thrive.