Welcome to Forked. I’m Sean Lewis and today I wanted to share my insights from last weeks episode with Ananda Fitzsimmons and I hope they resonate with you and maybe we can have some quiet reflections together. As I shared in my 2 part series on the 5 practices, we heard those themes throughout the exchange with Ananda. The importance of being present and witnessing the natural world around us, action steps to be in service to the world under our feet and, not striving for perfection but just doing our own small part. You know, when we talk about the environment, most of us feel two things at once: love… and helplessness. We love the Earth — most of our fondest memories were born close to it. Hot summer days at the lake. Childhood vacations at the beach. Sledding down a snow-swept hillside narrowly escaping real connection with that big oak that sits in the middle of the hill. The first time probably around our late teen years of discovering the peace of sitting under an old tree after a heartbreak. The Earth has been our quiet companion through it all — always there, always offering her gifts, never asking for anything in return. And that’s why this week’s episode — the first in the Journeyman season — is about remembering that our connection to the Earth is essential to finding true peace and lasting meaning. Meaning that carries us through our careers, through the noise of life, and into old age — when everything slows down, and we begin to see what’s always been constant. People come and go. Chapters open and close. But you… and the Earth… are never broken companions. Our conversation last week with Ananda Fitzsimmons brought to light the beautiful complexity of life and the interactions and cooperation that all living creatures provide in order for life to be sustained and well on our earth. The vast majority of people want to be loyal to the great memories nature has provided and want the next generation to share in those experiences of connecting with the earth. And yet, even with all that love, many of us feel a quiet ache underneath it. We see what’s happening to the world — the headlines, the pollution, the garbage, the fires, the storms — and somewhere inside, we start to feel small. Helpless. But maybe that’s where we’ve misunderstood our role. We’re not here to change the entire world — we’re here to connect with it again. Like we were when we were kids. Because the moment you reconnect, the helplessness begins to fade. Let’s take a look together at our 5 daily practices and how they can be guiding points to help us reconnect with the natural world and remind us what it is to be human. Part 1 — As you’ve learned, Breathing deeply brings The Power of Connection, breathing is a tool for feeling connected When you connect — when you actually walk, breathe, and pay attention — something inside you reawakens. You stop standing on the outside looking in. You start to belong again. And belonging is powerful. It dissolves helplessness. I think a lot of the apathy we feel — the burnout, the guilt — comes from forgetting that we’re part of nature, not separate from it. We scroll through feeds and headlines that show destruction, and we start believing that the world is something happening to us. But it’s not. It’s still happening through us, every single day. (pause) Every morning I take my dog Jaybe for a walk. We often follow the same trail near my home — gravel path, tiny forested areas, and small lake. I’ve walked that route hundreds of times. But almost every time, I notice something new — a new resident muskrat, field mice living under last summers meadow grass. Some geese migrating later than others, calmly floating on a tiny circle of unfrozen lake. You see that at closer inspection, nothing is ever really the same in nature. And sometimes, I’ll stop to pick up a piece of garbage — a coffee cup or a bit of plastic. I don’t do it out of duty or to feel like a hero. I just do it because, in that moment, it matters. That one small act — just bending down to clean up the ground I’m standing on — it connects me. It reminds me that I can be a participant, not just a spectator. That feeling stays with me all day. It’s not pride. It’s something quieter — a sense that I’m part of an energy that’s always happening between us and the Earth. You give something back, and the world gives something in return. Sometimes it’s peace, sometimes energy, sometimes just a breath that feels easier. Feeling that closeness might just be as near as a pause and five deep breaths. Part 2 — The Myth of Scale. Don’t compare One of the biggest illusions we live under is this idea that meaning has to be massive — that if we can’t save the planet, it’s not worth trying. We see people doing big things and we feel if we can’t do that, we just aren’t making an impact. But that mindset just feeds despair. We live in an era that Everything has to go viral, global, or groundbreaking to feel like it matters. But nature doesn’t work that way. The most abundant life in nature is microscopic. That’s where all the real action takes place. As Ananda said, if biodiversity at such a small scale is so essential, why can’t we recognize that our actions at a small scale are equally important…maybe contagious to others until humans just like the cooperation in the microscopic world we’re working and cooperating together. The proverb will always be true: Thousands of candles can be lit from one. A seed falling into the ground doesn’t know if it’s going to become a tree. It just opens, because that’s what it’s meant to do. We can live the same way. So maybe it’s not about saving the world. Maybe it’s about tending to the small part of the world that you can touch — the one that greets you each day when you step outside your door. Your patch of ground, your community park, your own state of mind. You don’t have to change the whole picture to change your relationship with it. When you care for what’s around you, you slowly start to heal that deeper wound of disconnection. And that’s not small — that’s revolutionary, in a quiet way. Because people who feel connected don’t destroy what they’re connected to. They protect it, without even needing to be told. Part 3 — Presence as Participation Sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do for the Earth is to notice it. That might sound too simple, but think about it — how much of life passes by unnoticed because we’re rushing through it? The morning light changes every day. The sounds shift with the seasons. But we rarely pause long enough to register it. And when we do, even for a few seconds, the world feels alive again — not as a backdrop, but as something that’s speaking to us. Observation itself is participation. When I walk with Jaybe, there’s this moment where she just stops, nose twitching, tail still. Do you know how present you have to be to hear mice running under the snow? She’s not doing anything by our standards — not producing, not saving, not achieving — she’s simply being in tune with the world. And every time, I think, that’s the relationship I want to have with the world around me. Curious, open, connected. Because when you feel connected, you naturally act with care. You recycle not out of guilt, but because it feels wrong not to. You walk instead of drive sometimes because it feels better, it’s hard to feel present and connected when we’re in a steal box. Your choices start flowing from love, not obligation. That’s the shift that actually sustains action over time — not fear, but love. Not panic, but participation. Part 4 — Overcoming Apathy Through the Local and the Small ACTION steps the cure for despair is seeing a way forward. Apathy is often just disconnection in disguise. We tell ourselves the world is too far gone, too big, too complex — and that belief becomes a kind of shield. It protects us from feeling, but it also keeps us from healing. When we come back to the local — the immediate, the small — that shield starts to crack. It’s not about ignoring global issues. It’s about remembering that your way in is through what’s near you. If everyone reconnected with the bit of the world under their own feet, we wouldn’t need to rely on guilt or grand gestures. Because millions of small, mindful actions done with love add up to something immense. And here’s the beautiful paradox: the more you focus on your small corner, the more connected you feel to the whole. Parents, do you teach your kids to hold on to garbage until you find a garbage can? Clean up after a picnic. Show our children to be quiet in nature, not only so they don’t disturb but so they can start to feel. Plant a tree on you front lawn…or two. Trade out your lawn for a perennial garden bed that doesn’t need to be watered and grows in harmony with the local climate. We forget that we’re walking ecosystems — constantly in exchange with our surroundings. Remembering that gives life meaning again. Part 5 — Finding Meaning in Simple Stewardship (your own unique relationship your own path) If you take some time to practice what we’ve shared today, you’ll begin to discover your own way of being in the world — one that feels right to you. And that’s the only person it needs to feel right for. You don’t have to do a lot. You just have to connect — to listen, to notice, to care in the small ways that feel true. Nature, in all her quiet intelligence, will take care of the rest. She’s the all-knowing parent we sometimes stop listening to — distracted by everything we think matters more. Until one day, life slows down. Maybe it’s in a season of loss or confusion, maybe it’s just a quiet winter evening when the noise finally fades —
