Biophilia- our inate tendancy to seek connection with life and living systems: The power of a simple walk

It’s called biophilia.

In 1984, biologist Edward O. Wilson popularised the Biophilia Hypothesis in his book Biophilia. At its heart is a simple but profound idea: as humans, we have an innate tendency to seek connection with life and living systems. Not because it’s fashionable. Not because it looks good on Instagram. But because it is woven into who we are.

Long before cities, screens, and schedules, we evolved outdoors. Our nervous systems were shaped by wind in trees, shifting light, birdsong, and the presence of animals. For most of human history, nature wasn’t somewhere we visited — it was home.

Why Nature Feels Like Relief

Have you ever noticed how:

• Stroking a cat slows your breathing?

• Walking beneath trees softens your thoughts?

• Standing by the sea seems to rinse something from your mind?

That isn’t sentimentality. It’s biology.

Fresh air, sunlight, and movement stimulate endorphins — those gentle mood-lifting chemicals that make us feel lighter and more capable. Sunlight helps our bodies produce vitamin D, essential for immune health and mood regulation. Natural environments are rich in negative ions (particularly near water and forests), which are linked to improved wellbeing and reduced stress.

Even more simply: when we walk, we process. When we breathe deeply, we regulate. When we are in contact with other living systems — animals, plants, landscapes — our bodies recognise something familiar.

We soften.

The Love of Life Is Ancient

The idea itself isn’t new. Psychologist Erich Fromm used the term biophilia to describe a “love of life” — an orientation toward what is alive and vital. Much earlier still, Aristotle spoke about philia — a form of friendship rooted in mutual benefit and shared flourishing.

In a way, our relationship with nature is exactly that: reciprocal. We care for it, and it cares for us. We walk among trees, and our blood pressure lowers. We tend gardens, and our minds settle. We bond with animals, and our capacity for empathy expands.

Children instinctively demonstrate this. They gravitate toward animals. They form nurturing bonds. Research shows that animals can be especially supportive for children, including those on the autism spectrum. There’s something regulating about another living being — steady, non-judgmental, present.

When Life Shifts Beneath You

Over the past few days, we’ve been settling our daughter into her university accommodation — in another country. A new rhythm. A new skyline. A new chapter.

Then came the goodbye.

It’s a strange kind of ache — pride tangled with loss, excitement threaded through grief. A massive upheaval for all of us. On both sides of the Tasman, there is change humming in the air.

And what has helped?

Walking.

Fresh air.

Movement.

On both sides of the ocean, we have found ourselves doing the same thing: stepping outside. Breathing. Putting one foot in front of the other. Letting the rhythm of walking metabolise the emotions that words can’t quite hold.

Nature has a way of grounding us when life feels unsteady. The solidity of earth underfoot. The constancy of tides. The quiet industry of birds continuing as they always have. It reminds us that change is natural. That growth requires movement. That seasons turn.

We are part of something larger.

Our Urban Minds, Our Wild Wiring

Modern life can convince us that productivity is everything. That sitting indoors under artificial light is normal. That exhaustion is inevitable.

But our nervous systems evolved in forests and open plains, not fluorescent-lit rooms. Some researchers argue that many of our modern stresses arise because our environments no longer match the conditions our brains evolved to navigate.

When we step outside, even briefly, we are recalibrating.

We are returning, however temporarily, to conditions our biology understands.

And it doesn’t have to be dramatic.

• A cup of tea in the garden.

• Ten minutes of sunlight in the morning.

• Stroking a dog.

• Watching clouds move.

• Walking around the block.

These are not indulgences. They are returns.

Nature Is Not To Be Underestimated

In times of transition — when children leave home, when roles shift, when identity stretches — nature offers quiet companionship. It doesn’t rush us. It doesn’t demand clarity. It simply holds space.

Biophilia reminds us that our connection to the living world isn’t optional or decorative. It’s foundational. Our spirit, as Wilson suggested, rises on its currents.

And perhaps that’s why, when everything feels new and uncertain, we lace up our shoes and head outside.

Because somewhere deep in our cells, we remember:

We belong here.