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The Neurodivergent Experience
Mindful Mondays With Ashley Bentley: Walking Off the Storm | Nature, Overwhelm, the Chemicals of Calm and the Wonder of Awe
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Start Your Week With Presence & Purpose
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The Neurodivergent Experience Podcast presents Mindful Mondays. I'm your host, Ashley Bentley, and this is your invitation to pause, breathe, and begin your week with presence and purpose. And if you're new here, welcome. If you're returning, welcome back. This is your space to land before you leap into the week. Every Monday, we gather to explore practices, ideas, and metaphors that support the uniquely wired, beautifully sensitive, neurodivergent brain. Together, we weave science, psychology, and timeless wisdom into tools that you can actually use. And then we ground everything into a guided meditation. So it's not just theory, but lived experience. And last week, we explored the architecture of routines and rhythms. How structure can steady us, but also how flexibility and play keep life alive. And today, we move outdoors into the woods, the fields, the lakes. We explore how nature itself can walk us out of overwhelm. How the natural world provides chemicals of calm, the grounding of presence, and the awe that restores our sense of meaning. And nature, at its core, is a gateway to presence. The moment we step outside, we're invited into a feast for the senses. The beauty of a tree's silhouette against the sky. The sound of birdsong or the crunch of leaves beneath our feet. The scent of flowers, fresh rain or salty sea air. The texture of bark, the coolness of stone and the softness of a petal brushed against the fingertips. Even the taste of a drop of honeysuckle nectar on the tongue. Presence is simply this coming back to the senses coming back to what is right now. And Mother Nature gives us all we need for this practice freely, abundantly. Every walk outside is a meditation. Every breath of fresh air is a reminder. Here I am, here it is. This moment is enough. So this whole month of October on Mindful Mondays is extra special because we'll be exploring presence and purpose through our connection with nature. Each week we'll look at how the natural world teaches us, heals us, and invites us back into balance. This feels especially close to home right now because I've just returned from a trip to the Lake District with my dear friends Jordan James and his lovely wife Sylvia. And Simon Scott. The other half of the neurodivergent Experience podcast joined us for a day too. Now, we had planned to record a podcast episode right there in the lakes, surrounded by water and mountains. But life, as it so often does, had other plans Instead. We spoke about the trip on their podcast episode that we recorded yesterday, which will be out just before this one. So today feels like a continuation, a cross pollination of conversations. If you haven't listened to that episode yet, I encourage you to. So let's dive in. Let's walk off the storm together. For many of us who are neurodivergent, overwhelm is not rare. It's daily, sometimes hourly. Our nervous systems process the world differently, often more intensely, with greater sensitivity. That means sounds, lights, textures, tasks, expectations, and even emotions can all pile up quickly. And when that happens, overwhelm is not a character flaw. It's not weakness. It's biology. It is your nervous system saying, I've had enough. I can't hold any more input. And in these moments, our body's stress response kicks in. Fight or flight floods us with adrenaline and cortisol. And here's the thing. When your body is in fight or flight, it wants to move. That's the design. But so often we try to force ourselves to sit still and think our way out of overwhelm. And that rarely works. Overwhelm is a storm in the body, and storms want movement. So the best thing you can do? Get outside, move your body, walk it off. If your system still has energy to burn, a brisk walk can literally metabolize those stress hormones. And if you've tipped into more of a free state, a gentle stroll might be better. Slow, steady and kind. Depending on what your body needs will depend on the type of walk that you do. Either way, the message is the same. Your body wants to move. And when you move in nature, you're not just discharging stress. You're also plugging yourself back into a whole pharmacy of of natural chemicals that help to restore balance. Now, I also want to acknowledge something very important. Sometimes getting outside for a walk isn't available to us. And I know this firsthand. I've been dealing with a worsening hip due to my Ehlers Danlos syndrome, and recent weeks have meant that walks outside just aren't possible. But of course, nature still calls to us. We can find a way. Maybe it's as simple as opening a window or door, letting in a breath of fresh air, the sound of birds, or the scent of rain. And if that's not available, we can always close our eyes and imagine it. Picture ourselves walking along the beach, or moving gently through a forest of trees, or watching a sunset stretch across the sky. Now, just about an hour ago, I recently came back from my first walk in several weeks, thanks to finding a cane that feels comfortable and safe for me. My steps are small, but they reconnect me to something bigger. And that's the reminder, whether through our feet, our breath, or our imagination, there is always a path back to nature. We find a way because nature is always calling us home. So let's look at some of the science behind why nature can help us feel better. You've probably heard of the quartet of happiness chemicals, dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin, and endorphins. And they each play a role in our well being. And when we're deficient in one, we feel it. So let's break them down through the lens of nature, through the lens of the neurodivergent brain. The first one is dopamine. This is also known as the reward chemical. What it brings to the table is motivation, focus, learning, a sense of accomplishment. What deficiency feels like could be low drive, procrastination, brain fog, or just feeling flat. Dopamine surges when we complete a task, when we achieve something, even something small. And for the neurodivergent brain, dopamine regulation is often trickier, which is why tasks can feel either impossible or exhilarating. So how does nature help? A walk itself is a task completed. You start, you finish, and dopamine rewards you. And on that walk, you could forage for a stone, a shell, or even a leaf that looks pretty. Spotting a bird, a squirrel, or a butterfly. Tiny winds that keep dopamine flowing. Okay. The next happiness chemical to look at is serotonin, also known as the mood stabilizer. And what serotonin brings to the table are feelings of, well, being, calm Confidence, emotional stability. And what deficiency can feel like anxiety, depression, irritability, low self esteem. Serotonin is deeply tied to sunlight and movement. That's why a day outdoors feels so different to a day inside. Sunlight on your skin tells your body to produce serotonin, and gentle exercise like walking amplifies it. And for the neurodivergent brain, serotonin is stabilizing. It tempers the storms. And nature is one of the simplest and safest ways to boost it. Okay, our next happiness chemical is oxytocin, also known as the love hormone. And what oxytocin brings to the table are feelings of trust, connection, belonging, and safety. And what deficiency feels like are loneliness, disconnection, mistrust. We often think oxytocin only comes from hugging another human. But it also rises when we connect with animals and when we feel part of something larger than ourselves. So walking with a dog or pausing to stroke a horse, even standing under a vast sky, can give you that subtle sense of being held. Then, for the neurodivergent heart, which may have known isolation, rejection, or masking their sense of belonging is medicine. And finally, let's look at endorphins, also known as nature's painkiller. What endorphins bring to the table are feelings of reduced pain, lifted mood, and lightness. And what deficiency feels like could be sensitivity to pain, low resilience, and dips in mood. Endorphins come when we laugh and when we move, when we stretch. A brisk walk in nature can release them. So can laughter shared with a friend while outdoors. And so can pausing to really breathe in the scent of pine, lavender, or damp earth after rain. Nature gives us this entire quartet of happiness chemicals. No pill bottle needed, no prescription required, just present. And alongside these chemicals, nature offers two other profound practices. Grounding and awe. Now, grounding is simple. Put your bare feet on the earth. Grass, soil, sand, stone. Science shows that direct skin contact with the ground helps regulate the body's electrical charge, lowering inflammation and promoting calm and better sleep. And for the neurodivergent nervous system, grounding can be especially powerful. A reset button when everything feels too much. And then there is awe. Did you know that there are scientists right now studying what awe is? It's still a bit of a mystery. We don't know exactly what it is or how to fully define it. And yet we know it is incredibly beneficial to us. When we experience feelings of awe, it lowers stress, reduces inflammation, improves our mood, and even makes us kinder and feel more connected. Isn't That a beautiful thing to realize that seeking out awe is not frivolous, but profoundly healing. And Mother Nature is the greatest artist of awe. Just think about sunsets for a moment. We never get tired of them. We can see hundreds of them, thousands of them in our lifetime, and still each one can stop us in our tracks. And still we call out to those near us. Come and look. Awe asks to be shared. There's even some science here, too. Viewing a sunset or a sunrise isn't just good for the soul. It helps regulate our circadian rhythms, the cycles of our body clock. Morning light tells our system to wake up. An evening light signals that it's time to wind down. Better rhythms, better sleep. Another reminder that we are deeply tied to nature. And nature is presence. And presence is medicine. And there's one more thing. The way we use our eyes. When we're anxious or overwhelmed, our vision narrows. We tunnel in. But when we step out into nature and let our gaze widen to take in the horizon, to look at the vastness of the sky or the stretch of the sea, when we widen our gaze, the nervous system softens. The body understands it's safe to relax. It shrinks the ego, reminding us we're part of something larger. This science of awe is the very definition of microdosing. Meaning and singer songwriter Jewel once shared that when she was a homeless teenager contemplating suicide, the only thing that saved her was watching the tide come in and out in that rhythm. She realized her suffering was also impermanent. If the tide could change, so could her life. And it did. Nature gives us awe every single day. If we look for it, the sky is always showing us a new masterpiece. And awe is that gateway to presence. Because in those moments, we stop rehearsing the past or fearing the future, and we are simply here. So this week, the next time you feel overwhelmed, go outside. Put one foot in front of the other. Notice one bird, one leaf, one ray of light. Let those small winds feed your dopamine. And put your face to the sun, even for 30 seconds. Let it bathe you in serotonin. And if you have a pet or a tree that you love, place your hand there. Let oxytocin flow. And when you notice laughter or scent or movement, lighten you. That's endorphins. These are not abstract chemicals. They are daily gifts. So today we've explored how nature heals overwhelm by giving us movement, grounding awe, and the quartet of happiness chemicals. Now, let's experience it together. If you are currently driving or operating heavy machinery, Please ensure to pause the recording and come back to it when you can safely come into stillness. And just find a comfortable position, either seated or lying down. And. And adjust your body in any way that it needs. Right now. Good. That's right. And gently close your eyes and take a long, slow breath in through your nose and sigh it out of your mouth. Feel the weight of your body settling into the surface beneath you, supported, held, rooted. And imagine the busyness of the day sliding off your shoulders like a coat you no longer need to carry. Every breath loosens the knots. Every exhale releases the stone storm. You are safe here. You are welcome here. You belong here. Now just imagine. Only imagine. Now you're standing at the edge of a vast meadow. And the sky above is heavy with storm clouds, Layers of gray, swirling, alive. You feel the electricity in the air, a charge across your skin, the way the world holds its breath just before the rain. This storm is your overwhelm. The thoughts that flash like lightning, the emotions that rumble like thunder, the weight that presses on your chest. Notice how powerful it seems. And yet notice too. You are not the storm. You are the one who sees the storm, the one steady enough to stand on the earth while the sky roars above. And now imagine. You take a step forward and feel the ground beneath your feet, springy, alive with roots and grass. With every step, picture the storm inside you, beginning to move. Stress, hormones, cortisol, adrenaline, dispersing like raindrops, absorb into the soil. Your body knows how to release. Your body remembers how to return to balance. As you continue walking through the meadow, the air is cool and sweet, filled with the scent of wet earth. Each breath feels like medicine. Each step is a prayer. And as you walk, you encounter four companions, the natural chemicals of regulated presence, each one a gift from the living world. The first that comes along is dopamine. And ahead of you, a small robin lands on a fence post. Its chest glows red against the silver sky. And the sight fills you with delight. A tiny win, a small success of noticing every detail. You notice the curve of a leaf, the pattern in a stone. The sound of a bird is dopamine, flowing, rewarding awareness, whispering. You are doing enough. Each moment is enough. And next comes serotonin. The clouds part slightly and sunlight spills across your face. Golden warmth soaks into your skin, your muscles, your very bones. You feel steady, calm, and quietly confident. Serotonin tells your nervous system you are balanced. You are supported. The world is brighter than you thought. And then oxytocin arrives. You rest your palm against the trunk of an ancient tree. Its bark is rough but alive, pulsing with silent wisdom. And for a moment, you and the tree breathe together. Oxytocin fills you with belonging, as if the forest itself is embracing you, whispering. You are a of part. Part of us. You are never alone. And finally, endorphins. You take a deeper breath, filling your lungs with pine scented air. And your body warms from the walk. And with it comes a lightness, a lift, A hint of laughter rises unbidden, like the kind that bubbles up in good company. Endorphins are the breeze that carries away pain and the spark that makes even effort feel joyful. Together, these four friends walk beside you. Dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin, endorphins weaving together. A symphony of presence. And now pause your walk and step barefoot onto the earth. And feel the cool soil against your skin, the tiny grains pressing into your souls. Roots twine below, drawing nourishment upward. And imagine the subtle energy of the earth, A deep current flowing into your body, balancing your nervous system, smoothing the edges of tension with every breath. Release what you no longer need. Old, shoulds, stale, have to's the static of overwhelm. The earth receives it all, composting it into new strength. With every inhale, you draw up steadiness, patience, clarity. The ground itself is lending you its calm. And now lift your gaze upward. The storm clouds begin to dissolve. And the sky stretches wide enough, endless. And colors spill across it. Golden amber, deep violet, soft rose, shifting moment by moment. It's as if an invisible hand is painting just for you. Notice how your breath catches in this moment. This is awe. The kind of wonder that needs no explanation. The kind of beauty that draws us into silence. And awe, just like us, can never be fully defined. It's still a mystery. And yet we know it heals it. Lower your stress softens the heart and steadies the nervous system. Let yourself feel it now. The colors shifting, the vastness overhead, the reminder that you are part of something infinite. And notice how your body responds. Your chest loosens, your vision softens. And the grip of overwhelm eases. And as your vision widens to see how far the land stretches, how the sky curves around the world. This wide vision tells your nervous system it is safe. Now you can rest in the medicine of presence itself. As you feel awe flow through you like a river of light, washing away the tightness, leaving only wonder, gratitude, presence. Just stay here for a few breaths, bathing in this living miracle. And place your hand over your heart. Feel the rhythm there steady, ancient, alive. And let this mantra arise gently. I am not the storm, I am the sky it passes through. I am not drowning, I am the tide always returning to shore. Breathe it in, let it settle. And as you prepare to return to your day, know this. Every walk outside, every ray of light, every touch of bark or soil or water is an invitation back to presence. Nature waits for you, always ready to walk off the storm. Thank you so much for joining me for this mindful Monday practice. I am so grateful you chose to spend this time walking off the storm with me, reconnecting with the calm and awe that nature so freely offers us. And if you'd like to explore more, you can find me on Insight Timer where I share guided meditations, yoga, nidras, bedtime stories, and in depth courses designed to support presence, resilience and rest. And I hope you'll join me next week for episode six, the Beauty of Letting Go Autumn Leaves and Seasonal Change, where we'll explore how the seasons themselves remind us to release, to trust change, and to find the beauty in transitions. Until then, may you carry presence with you and may nature continue to be your teacher. Sa.