One of the things I love so much about Alaska is that nothing is guaranteed here. There are so many variables involved in planning any trip that a lot of things can go wrong. As much as I want to be in control, Alaska always faithfully reminds that I’m not. Sure, I plan every detail of my trips meticulously. But once the plane lands and I step out into the wilderness I am quickly reminded that I can’t control everything. This is very humbling. And that’s a good thing.

As humans our brains are programmed to seek comfort as a means of survival. It makes sense. And through so many amazing advances in technology our modern lives are very comfortable. In fact, we’re so comfortable that we don’t need to struggle to survive on a daily basis the way that our ancestors did. All of these modern comforts and conveniences make survival much more certain so it should make us happier, right? Well, not exactly. The reason is that we humans have not only evolved to survive through seeking comfort, but we also paradoxically crave adventure. Why? Simply put, comfort feels nice but it is boring. We need excitement in our lives. With adventure comes uncertainty and discomfort. This challenges us to break out of our predictable behavioral patterns and try something new. We’re deliberately doing an about face and walking away from the protective environment that we’ve so carefully constructed to ensure our survival. It’s scary and that’s exciting!

To be blunt, we Westerners are living in a ‘Crisis of Comfort’. All of our technological advances have made life so much easier for us. Not that this is a bad thing. I’m so thankful for modern medicine, vehicles, airplanes, computers, phones and, most of all, my camera. Technology improves the quality of our lives, increases life expectancy and boosts our creative potential. But the negative consequence of technology making our lives so much easier is that it makes our too easy.

I have such fond memories of growing up as a kid in the ‘80s. Sure, I had technology for entertainment but nothing nearly as complex and advanced as what I have today. We had a tv and even got cable when I was about ten or eleven (which was pathetic by today’s standards). I eventually got an Atari and then the first version of Nintendo (both were embarrassingly pathetic compared to modern video games). And I even had a cassette tape player (remember those?). None of these devices was portable and the quality, although quite revolutionary for the time, was nowhere near as impressive as the little desktop and pocket-sized powerhouses that we have today. Don’t get me wrong, I looked forward to weekly sitcoms like Seinfeld, reveled in cracking the Contra game code “Up-Up-Down-Down-…..” on my Nintendo and played “Little Red Corvette” until the tape literally broke. <Sorry Gen Zers, you’ll have to Google those references> But my machine-based entertainment options were very limited compared to today. Heck, most of them were even analog. Digital technology was just starting to come onto the scene. Almost nobody had a computer yet. The internet was still being developed and wasn’t a thing yet. And smartphones were as futuristic as a hoverboard. Even cell phones were the size of a big black brick that only Gordon Gekko could afford. <Start Googling GenZers!>

As nostalgic as it is to take a walk down memory lane, I actually do have a point to make about all of this so let’s get to it. When I was a kid in the 80’s I had entertainment-based technology and I really enjoyed them. But options were very limited, devices were largely not portable and gratification was not so instantaneous. There was no streaming on Netflix or binge watching your favorite series. Want to make a music playist for your next roadtrip? Ha! That’s funny. You had to buy full cassette tapes (later DVDs) and then record or burn each individual song. This took a lot of time and effort and money. So I remember having to be a lot more creative back then. The limited technology I had for entertainment purposes was really fun to use but it wasn’t so effortless and endless as it seems to be today. I didn’t have a lot of options to choose from so I did a lot more reading than I do now (by that I mean books, with actual paper, and not swiping a digital screen). I actually built things to accessorize my G.I. Joe figurines and Matchbox cars. And I played outside and rode my bike a lot! Today, there are so many options that are readily available for relatively cheap prices. And the most important and powerful device that we all have fits right in our pockets. It takes almost no effort at all to find entertainment at all hours of the day no matter who you are or where you are in the world. And we never even have to leave our houses to find entertainment if we don’t want to.

Today we are all always connected to the digital world. The problem with this is that it requires us to disconnect from the physical world. And that’s not a good thing.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my technology as much as anyone. I love my camera and my computer. I love my smartphone. I love streaming movies. I love listening to music and podcasts. I love bluetoothing. My iPad doesn’t suck. My wireless ear buds are a godsend. These are all really good things that I enjoy. But I inevitably find myself getting too much of these good things. I start feeling anxious and overwhelmed by constant digital stimulation. It’s so easy to be entertained whenever I want. There’s no challenge in it. It’s so darn easy, in fact, it becomes boring after a while. When I eventually catch myself picking up my phone and mindlessly swiping just for the swipe of it, I know it’s time. What time you ask? It’s time to go.

We all love nature. Why do you think so many tax dollars are spent on making city parks? For centuries cities have always carved out space for some green among the grey. Concrete certainly provides a more efficient surface for a sidewalk and bricks houses are much stronger than mud huts. But nothing beats a stroll through a green park full of trees and flowers for relaxing and clearing your head.

Whether it is simple hike on your neighborhood trail, a weekend camping trip or a a multi-day backpacking trip in the remote Alaska mountains, spending time in the outdoors is a fundamental part of being a human. We all love it. We all want it regardless of how advanced our technology gets. But the funny part of this is that going into the outdoors means inherently sacrificing some level of modernly fabricated comfort. It’s paradoxical that we would actively seek discomfort for pleasure. You can’t just tap and swipe your phone to get it. Actually spending time in nature means leaving your cozy house and stepping outside into the elements. It means walking on an uneven trail. It means unexpectedly running into a wild animal. This goes directly against any basic human survival instinct. As bizarre as it may seem, we all know that we enjoy being in the outdoors among the mountains, rivers, trees and wildlife. And we always feel better after spending time in nature.

Aside for the obviously beautiful scenery, I think the reason that nature is so therapeutic at relieving stress is that it revives a different kind of stress. This is a much more ancient, primal type of stress that is ignited by a heightened sense of survival. Consciously and deliberately leaving a protective technological cocoon tells the brain that it is no longer permitted to be on holiday anymore. The brain must actively engage with the outside environment at all times. No more mindless twitter scrolling. You are forced to be aware of every footstep. You’re constantly scanning your surroundings for signs of danger. You’re in state of stress but it’s a different kind of stress than being disappointed with how many likes you got on your last Instagram post. It’s a good kind of stress.

Disconnecting from the digital world forces us to reconnect with our natural world. And at the end of the day, whether you realize it or not, nature reminds you deep down that whatever doesn’t kill you, doesn’t kill you. And that’s way more gratifying than “Up-Up-Down-Down-…..” ever was.