Photosynthesized Me

Photosynthesized Me

I developed a new habit over the summer that I plan to keep. It's small and simple, but for me, it has made a difference. Every so often, I photosynthesize. 

I haven't turned green or started converting carbon dioxide and water into sugar. I'm not creating oxygen. (They'd be nice super powers, though.) What I am doing is taking little breaks from working indoors to head outside. Then I stand and absorb. 

Just what do I absorb?

• If the sun is out to any degree, I absorb its light. (I think plants must feel this good in sunlight.)

• If there's a red-tailed or a red-shouldered hawk circling somewhere overhead, I absorb its shrill calls.

• If a dragonfly darts past, or a blue jay yells at me from a treetop, I absorb those sights and sounds.

• If a breeze drifts over me, carrying the sweetness of flowers, I absorb its scent, its sensation.

• If that same breeze moves away to murmur through the leaves of the nearby paper birch, I close my eyes and absorb the susurration for all it's worth. (Susurration is currently my favorite onomatopoeia, in case you were wondering.)

Why all the absorbing?

Because everything is there, already, waiting to be noticed. And because connecting to the here and now makes it easier to remember what matters.

Plus there's this: I'm not the only one who's enjoying my new habit. My dogs are fans too. While I photosynthesize, they run around their fenced-in yard and stop by regularly to say hello and be scratched behind the ears, and sometimes they pause in their playing to do some absorbing of their own. Whenever I can manage it, I get the cats geared up and bring them outside too. Cats are expert absorbers.

How is photosynthesizing different?

I've always loved to be out in nature, and like others, I know absorbing a safe degree of sunlight offers health benefits (including a reduction in blood pressure and boosts in serotonin and Vitamin D—which is referred to as Vitamin D photosynthesis, by the way). Yet, since entering adulthood, I've increasingly felt the need to justify the time I spend outside.

One of my favorite pastimes is exploring state parks, for instance, but I no longer visit them as often as I used to. I've learned to schedule my trips in advance, treating them like indulgences or minivacations, rather than some much-needed forest bathing. At home, I almost always build a purpose into my outdoor time: weed, scrub the birdbaths, gather the growing things from the garden, weed some more.

This new habit of standing and photosynthesizing is something else. It's a meditation. The absorbing is its own purpose.

For me, heeding the call of the plants has been healing and subtly transformative. That's why, today, I came here with a small, simple wish: to recommend photosynthesizing to others. To recommend it to you. 

Thanks for reading, and please contact me at Three Quills Editing to discuss just about anything: books and poetry, rescue pets, your favorite pollinator-friendly native plants, or—one of my personal favorites—to request a free sample edit. I’d love to hear from you!