UnEarth Magazine.

_{Writing by Maisie Wilkinson – Art by Emily Warden}

In Scotland, it is a well-known fact that there are, at most, 10 days a year in which the weather meets the expectations necessary to spend time outdoors. Every other day is met with dreary rain, grey skies and cutting wind. However, today I find myself trapped on the second floor of the library on one of those rare, beautiful sunny days yearning to be outside. All I can do is stare out of the window lamenting how I am wasting the day. Meanwhile, my dissertation looms in front of me, blatantly ignored and no closer to being finished than it was three hours ago.  

By the time it’s 5pm, I decide to cut my losses and give up. I feel guilty: not only have I made absolutely zero progress on my work, but I haven’t even had the chance to enjoy the fleeting sunlight. I feel like a hypocritic. If you have read any of my previous articles, you will know I am passionate about nature connectivity. Likewise, to the annoyance of my friends, I refuse to shut up about the importance of spending time outside and valuing the nature in the places around us. Yet here I am, not even watching the sun set, as I spend the next three hours scrolling through Instagram reels, jealously flicking through snapshots of people on their hiking trips, upcycling their clothes, touching dirt and licking moss. I wish that was me – I am down despicably bad for moss.  

Writing this article was difficult because it forced me to reflect on how often I fall short of my own expectations. Maybe it’s because I’m a perfectionist and my expectations are what some may call silly, and others may call ridiculous. (I have not yet achieved a Grammy, an Oscar, a Nobel Peace Prize, an Olympic Gold Medal, a first in geography or even approval from my dissertation supervisor). It feels scary and exposing to admit our failures and be honest with ourselves, especially in the face of that ever-present inner judgement.  

I appreciate this is quite a depressing start, but the intention of this article is not to simply mope about my dissertation and brain-rot addiction. It’s to recognize that we cannot do everything – and that’s okay. Yes, it is important to take time to appreciate the outdoors. Yes, it’s important to engage in activism, to educate ourselves about environmental issues and make sustainable choices. But life happens. Deadlines pile up. Motivation wanes. And sometimes we simply don’t have the energy to do it all.  

Being kind to yourself does not mean lowering your expectations – it means respecting your limits. You probably won’t solve the climate crisis by yourself (though, to be fair, I would argue that it’s a systemic issue that requires mass public engagement and the dismantling of capitalism but that’s probably too heavy for this article). But that’s okay and it doesn’t mean that your small actions don’t matter.  

So, on my next 9-5 at the library, when I catch myself staring longingly out the window, maybe I will stop what I am doing and go for a walk. Even if it just for 5 minutes, the small act of stepping away and acknowledging that it is okay to pause, will be worth it. Because sometimes, simply existing and appreciating nature and the place we’re in, is enough.