People find recovery in a number of ways, but the recipe that has worked for me over the past twenty-nine years remains unchanged: Prayer, twelve-step meetings, working with other women, a morning program to start my day, and nature.

I never realized how important nature was to my recovery and my life until I was a guest on the popular podcast, The Bubble Hour: Jean asked, why, out of my other three siblings, was I the only one who found lasting recovery? After a short pause to consider the question, it dawned on me that perhaps one reason why I didn’t unravel all the way while growing up in a chaotic alcoholic home was that I spent copious amounts of time in nature. Nature is still a huge part of my life and my recovery. Even now, when I need an escape, I tend to seek places that are quiet; places surrounded by trees or water. One of my favorite escapes is a silent Trappist monastery, Gethsemane.

My mother was the alcoholic in our family and her disease took her to a low bottom. It wasn’t that she didn’t try to get help, but back in the ’60s Valium was the drug for moms, and alcoholism wasn’t talked about as much as it is today. I believe the shame factor was also quite strong—and sadly, not much has changed, (we need to smash the stigma! Cool, smart, savvy people can drink too much. Everyone needs to get on board with the truth). In order to escape the mayhem at home, I stayed on the trails or in the barn with my horse. It helped that I had an idyllic environment to ride: orchards, fields, and miles of trails. The outdoors, well, it was a haven for me.

During the decade when I did most of my drinking, spending time in nature wasn’t a priority. Unless I was outside washing my car while blasting the music and drinking, or on a beach somewhere—drinking— what was the point? The outdoors had bugs and mosquitos and who wants to perspire anyway? I didn’t appreciate the moon, or the seasons, or the amazing ways that nature will creep into even the most urban or barren environments. Those blades of grass that find a way to thrive in sidewalk cracks, or the bougainvillea vine that blossoms in what otherwise appears to be a concrete city.

Since I got sober, back in 1989, I returned to nature—in many ways—I crave it. I insist on it. I live in a colder state and heading outdoors in the winter can be a bit miserable sometimes so I had to get creative. I made a decision that if I couldn’t always get outside I would have to bring the outdoors in. I feed the birds all winter and can stand in my kitchen and feel like I’m outside. I watch deer pass through the backyard; I have house plants and a bowl of stones on my desk. When I feel the need to connect to something solid, I hold a beautiful stone and let it connect me to the earth. I love using natural materials like wood and stone to decorate; all those earth elements help me feel grounded. Even if you live in the city or in a studio apartment, there are always ways to bring the outdoors inside. Perhaps that’s why desk size Zen gardens or water features with a babbling fountain are found in so many therapists offices. Nature has a calming effect. We were meant to commune with nature. We were not meant to spend our lives under fluorescent lighting and addicted to technology.

A small waterfall in the forest in the Catskills.

At times, sobriety has its challenges, (I live with a spouse who drinks and my extended family drinks). Nature is where I find my strength. I encourage the women that I sponsor to find a way to connect with nature, and often, they tell me experiences of their own healing moments that happened when their hands were in the dirt or they were simply taking a moment to enjoy the moon. One woman I know got sober and decided that she needed a hobby to fill her time. She spent many hours turning her small backyard into what is a beautiful garden. She said she finds peace there, and so do I. I love to visit her.

I began reading more and stumbled over numerous articles that offered scientific evidence—proof that time spent in nature is healing—trees give off chemicals called, phytoncides. Phytoncides are proven to boost immunity, decrease depression, reduces stress, and improve sleep, to name a few benefits. There’s something about being under a green canopy that can heal, and make one feel calm; refreshed; like taking a bath.

A study done by the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) showed that the average American spends 93 percent of their life indoors! I find that statistic shocking, and sad. I thought back to my life before recovery and realized how true that statistic probably is. In my adult life, my horse was no longer practical, and he was sold when I left home at eighteen. I lived mostly in urban areas. Life happens: there were moves, jobs, and long hours spent inside bars and hangouts. Regardless where I lived, it seemed that I went from home to work to the bar and back home. No wonder I felt awful most all of the time. No person is meant to live in one indoor environment after the other. Add alcohol to the mix…, is it any wonder that I had more days where I felt melancholy and out of touch than days that I felt alive and well?

Alcoholism and addiction can be tough diseases to battle. Recovery has its challenges as well. When I’ve had moments or days when I felt despair or was at a low point, a trek into the woods or a visit to the park always brings me back to a place of hope. I look at trees that are gnarled or bent from the battering they take in their forest lives, and it reminds me that none of us gets to enjoy a life without hardship, not even the trees. They have learned to plant deep roots so they have a better chance of weathering the storms. I think that’s what we’re meant to do in recovery: Plant deep roots in a recovery community; use the steps or whatever mode of recovery that works for you; have faith in a higher power so that when the storms of life hit, as they tend to do for all of us, we can stand strong and know, that just like the wind, that this too shall pass, and just like the trees with deep roots—we can weather life’s storms.

Lisa is the author of the multi-award winning book, Raising the Bottom: Mindful Choices in a Drinking Culture. After short stints where she trained polo horses, worked as a flight attendant, hairdresser, and bartender, she revamped her life and settled in as a registered nurse. For the past twenty-nine years has worked with hundreds of women to overcome alcoholism, live better lives and become better parents. She was prompted to write Raising the Bottom when she realized after twenty plus years of working in hospitals, that doctors and traditional healthcare offer few solutions to women with addiction issues. You can start reading for free on Amazon. Follow her on Twitter @LBoucherAuthor and Instagram