Books That Influenced My Perspective

I didn’t write a gift guide because I feel like it's such a personal thing, and also that most of us don’t really need more stuff. But books are something that has been a mainstay in my life, and especially around the holidays. They’re an escape for me from the tension and stress that I associate with the Christmas season. 

So I thought I’d write about a few of the books I’ll probably be dipping into over the next few days between Christmas and the new year. I have read all of these in ebook format, so they’re not more physical clutter. Though, I’m all for gifting books, or buying them for yourself, in whatever form is preferred. 

I also listened to the Scotland Outdoors podcast this past weekend that talked about the Icelandic tradition of gifting books that everyone then runs off to read on Christmas Eve. It’s called Jólabókaflóð, or Yule Book Flood. It’s past Christmas Eve now, but it's still a great time to read.

Books change our minds and our perspectives, and these are four books that have had a significant impact on my life and how I view the world, nature, gardening, and mental health.

Rambunctious Garden: Saving Nature in a Post-Wild World by Emma Marris

This book was a real eye-opener for me. It delves into the paradox of wilderness and how there isn’t really such a thing anymore because we manage it so heavily. We strive for this pristine wilderness, which in reality, is based on a static historical idea we have of what wilderness should be. 

That “pristine” we aim for is always an idea of what nature looked like at a specific point in time, usually shortly after settlers and colonialists arrived. Generally, this view makes no account for the indigenous people who were part of this so-called wilderness long before we were. So the idea we often hold as “pristine wilderness” is also racist and erases the perspectives and existence of the indigenous peoples who already understood and managed the land.* 

That idea of pristine is entirely impossible to return to, for various reasons, not least of which is the fact that nature is in constant flux. Regardless of what we do, nature keeps changing. Even if all humans disappeared from the earth, it would keep changing; we can’t stop it.

We need to work with nature instead of attempting to return it to the landscape that Ansel Adams explored and photographed. Change is constant, and we must work with the change and do our best to counteract the adverse effects we’ve had on the world as humans. We must learn to coexist with nature. We could take many lessons from the people who were here before us settlers. 

This book is not a depressing, doomsday climate change discussion. It is full of interesting theories and ideas of how we could better take care of nature, as a global collective of humans, not just as individuals. 

*I don’t recall the book discussing indigenous perspectives. It might, or it might not. It's been over four years since I read it. If it doesn’t include indigenous perspectives, then I would probably detract a few points from it and advise you to read it with that in mind. 

The Old Ways: A Journey On Foot by Robert Macfarlane

This book connected with my heart and my head in ways that no other book ever has. I have read and reread and reread and copied entire chapters of this book by hand because it has affected me so much. 

This book showed me that writing about nature could be compelling and imaginative, and all-consuming as fiction. Previous to this book, I had separated non-fiction and fiction as “learn factual things” and “escape the world to a fantasy universe.” This book crossed that line and let me escape into a fantasy that was the real world, on another side of the globe. 

Don’t ask me why this is the first time I made this realization. I’ve read a ton of travel memoirs, which in hindsight, do precisely that: let me escape my life for a moment. But this one was the first one that made me really understand that it was possible to do this with nonfiction. 

I have since read several of Macfarlane’s other books, and they have all been beautiful and take me out of my current life and away into an obsession with nature. Most importantly, this book made me realize that the possibility of writing about nature was a real career that people did. And maybe that meant it was something I could do too. I can only hope to someday write as compellingly as Macfarlane.

Waterlog: A Swimmer’s Journey Through Britain by Roger Deakin

I learned about Roger Deakin through Robert Macfarlane’s books. All of Deakin’s books have made an impact on my passion for nature and the environment. But Waterlog has had a particularly profound effect on me. This book is probably the precursor to my adoption of nearly-daily cold showers as an anxiety treatment. This is another book that I’ve read and reread and copied passages out of by hand because I love it so much. 

This book, and The Old Ways, are my default escape books when I’m having a shitty day. Similar to Macfarlane, Deakin’s words make me feel like I’m there, in the exact moment he writes about. Like I’m stepping into the water, warm or cold, clear or murky, for a swim right with him. It makes me feel close to nature. It makes me feel comfortable and that it’s ok to want to retreat and be in solitude with the world by myself. It reminds me that I’m a piece of nature too. 

At the end of the day, nature doesn’t give two shits about my deadlines or financial worries; it just keeps keeping on. And so maybe the problems that are overwhelming my brain are rather insignificant in the grand scheme of life. Not in a: “I don’t matter, so what’s the point” way, but in a: “there’s more to life than this crap that I’m currently stressing about” way. It helps me remember that I am a human first and foremost and that capitalism is bullshit.  

The Jewel Garden: A Story of Despair and Redemption by Monty Don

I found this book after watching many seasons of Gardeners World with Monty Don. I’m obsessed with this show, and when the season ends in October, I watch old episodes to get me through the winter until it starts again in March. 

The natural progression of my obsession with wanting to be the Canadian version of Monty meant reading everything he’s written that I can get my hands on. This has been one of my consistent favourites. It was hard to read, in that it was an emotional experience for me. And it has been every time I’ve reread it since. 

But it has also given me hope. It has reminded me that gardening and plant care is consolation for my mind during the hard days of mental illness. It has given me hope that writing will get me through and that I can survive through the hardest days.  That however dim it may be, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. That no matter how dark it gets, the days always get brighter after December 21. 

And no matter what human drama happens in the world, plants are always growing. The best thing I can do for my own mental health is to be a good steward of the earth, tell my stories, take care of plants, and learn the lessons they teach me. 

How Books Have Improved my Mental Health Management

There’s a theme here. These books have affected the way I look at the natural world, where I fit into it, and how I write and interact with it, and as a result, have had an effect on my mental health. All of these books have given me new ways to think about my mental health and manage it. 

I would highly recommend reading any of these titles during the holiday season. 

I have not included links to purchase these books because I know that independent bookstores are really struggling right now, and I know that lots of people are also struggling right now. So if you do choose to purchase physical copies of these, try to find an independent book store. They’ll probably order it in for you if they don’t have it in stock. 

If you can’t purchase them, check with your library. Chance are good they’re in the library system somewhere, and your library will most likely be able to bring them in for you; just ask.