Walk with Elayna Toby Singer: Creativity, Belonging, and Seeing the World Differently
Episode Summary: What does it really mean to be creative?
On this Walk, I am joined by environmental artist and educator Elayna Toby Singer for a conversation about creativity, nature, and what it means to create experiences that help people connect—with themselves, one another, and the natural world. We explore why Elayna prefers the word creator over artist, how play and curiosity invite us into deeper relationship with nature, and why simply noticing what is already around us may be one of the most accessible pathways to wellbeing.
Show Notes
When most of us hear the word artist, we picture someone painting a canvas, sculpting clay, or creating something to admire. Elayna Toby Singer invites us to expand that definition.
As an environmental artist, educator, and facilitator, Elayna doesn't simply create art—she creates experiences. Through movement, storytelling, nature, music, and hands-on making, she helps people reconnect with themselves, with one another, and with the living world around them. Throughout our conversation, she returns to a simple but profound idea: creativity isn't reserved for a select few. We are all creators.
Together, we explore how nature becomes both the medium and the teacher. From creating kinetic mobiles with locally gathered seed pods to inviting participants to see themselves as trees, Elayna's work helps people experience nature not as something "out there," but as something we already belong to. Rather than teaching facts about plants, she offers invitations to notice, to play, and to remember our relationship with the natural world.
One of my favorite moments in the conversation comes when we explore the idea of beauty. For Elayna, beauty isn't simply something we observe. Beauty becomes a way into connection—with ourselves, with others, and with nature. Whether she's transforming objects from a junk drawer into community art or guiding participants through a tree self-portrait exercise, the goal isn't creating perfect art. It's creating meaningful experiences that move people—both literally and emotionally.
If you've ever found yourself saying, "I'm just not creative," this conversation offers a gentle challenge. Perhaps creativity isn't about making beautiful things. Perhaps it's about noticing, expressing, connecting, and allowing yourself to participate in the ongoing act of creation that nature has been modeling all along.
Key Themes
Creativity as a way of connecting
Nature as both medium and teacher
Creator versus artist
Playfulness, curiosity, and wellbeing
Beauty as a pathway to connection
Remembering our relationship with nature
Facilitating belonging through shared experiences
Invitations to notice the natural world
Key Takeaways
Creativity belongs to everyone—not just those who identify as artists.
Nature becomes more meaningful when we engage with it through making, movement, and curiosity.
Simple invitations to notice can change our relationship with the places we experience every day.
Beauty is more than aesthetics; it can become a doorway to connection.
Multi-sensory experiences help us remember ideas long after the experience ends.
Small creative practices can foster belonging, wellbeing, and a deeper sense of our place within nature.
"We are all creators."
Connect with Elayna
Elayna Toby Singer is an environmental artist, educator, and facilitator whose work brings together nature, creativity, movement, and community engagement. Through interactive workshops, kinetic art installations, and guided nature experiences, she helps people reconnect with themselves, one another, and the living world around them.
Website: (add website)
Instagram: Show Notes
When most of us hear the word artist, we picture someone painting a canvas, sculpting clay, or creating something to admire. Elayna Toby Singer invites us to expand that definition.
As an environmental artist, educator, and facilitator, Elayna doesn't simply create art—she creates experiences. Through movement, storytelling, nature, music, and hands-on making, she helps people reconnect with themselves, with one another, and with the living world around them. Throughout our conversation, she returns to a simple but profound idea: creativity isn't reserved for a select few. We are all creators.
Together, we explore how nature becomes both the medium and the teacher. From creating kinetic mobiles with locally gathered seed pods to inviting participants to see themselves as trees, Elayna's work helps people experience nature not as something "out there," but as something we already belong to. Rather than teaching facts about plants, she offers invitations to notice, to play, and to remember our relationship with the natural world.
One of my favorite moments in the conversation comes when we explore the idea of beauty. For Elayna, beauty isn't simply something we observe. Beauty becomes a way into connection—with ourselves, with others, and with nature. Whether she's transforming objects from a junk drawer into community art or guiding participants through a tree self-portrait exercise, the goal isn't creating perfect art. It's creating meaningful experiences that move people—both literally and emotionally.
If you've ever found yourself saying, "I'm just not creative," this conversation offers a gentle challenge. Perhaps creativity isn't about making beautiful things. Perhaps it's about noticing, expressing, connecting, and allowing yourself to participate in the ongoing act of creation that nature has been modeling all along.
Key Themes
Creativity as a way of connecting
Nature as both medium and teacher
Creator versus artist
Playfulness, curiosity, and wellbeing
Beauty as a pathway to connection
Remembering our relationship with nature
Facilitating belonging through shared experiences
Invitations to notice the natural world
Key Takeaways
Creativity belongs to everyone—not just those who identify as artists.
Nature becomes more meaningful when we engage with it through making, movement, and curiosity.
Simple invitations to notice can change our relationship with the places we experience every day.
Beauty is more than aesthetics; it can become a doorway to connection.
Multi-sensory experiences help us remember ideas long after the experience ends.
Small creative practices can foster belonging, wellbeing, and a deeper sense of our place within nature.
"We are all creators."
Connect with Elayna
Elayna Toby Singer is an environmental artist, educator, and facilitator whose work brings together nature, creativity, movement, and community engagement. Through interactive workshops, kinetic art installations, and guided nature experiences, she helps people reconnect with themselves, one another, and the living world around them.
Website: https://elaynatobyart.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/elaynatobyart/
Resources Mentioned
Forest Bathing (Forest Therapy)
Neuroaesthetics
Attention Restoration Theory
Agency by Design (Harvard Graduate School of Education)
Reflection Prompt
What is one thing you could notice today that you've walked past a hundred times before?
And what might change if you gave yourself permission to see it with fresh eyes?
Prefer to read? The full transcript is below.
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Susan: All right. Welcome, Elayna, to the podcast.
Elayna: Thank you. It's a delight to be here.
Susan: It is a delight to have you here. I'm already having fun looking at your mixed-media background. You've got a mix of plant-print fabric, I think, and I'm making up that the wood screen behind you is handmade.
Elayna: It is. It's not my work, but it is artist-made. It's always good to be immersed in the visual of plants.
Susan: It is. It really does matter. I spent about 45 minutes outside this morning just being next to my favorite trees, and it helped me start my day. So it matters.
Well, I'm glad you're here today. I reached out after I saw you speaking at the Forest Therapy Global Summit this spring. Your topic, Tree Time, Me Time, seemed really aligned with what we talk about on this podcast. Then I did a little digging and realized there's a lot more to you than just good old-fashioned nature, so to speak. I'm really glad to have this conversation.
I like to start with a question I'm always curious about. When someone asks what you do, how do you answer? There's a lot to you.
Elayna: Yes, I'm a multidimensional being—a multi- and cross-disciplinary being, for sure.
What do I do? Well, I work with trees and people and place to facilitate health and wellbeing through nature connection. I use different art modalities—making, movement, and singing—as ways of connecting people to themselves and to their surroundings.
Susan: There's so much there.
I've really been looking forward to this conversation because we don't often think about wellbeing, nature, and art together. I know creation is such a big part of what you do.
Elayna: Yes. I began my horticulture career...my master's degree is officially in Public Horticulture Administration, which, in more accessible language, is nonprofit museum management with an emphasis on botanical gardens, arboretums, public gardens, parks, and similar spaces.
Originally, though, I was an educator. I started in multicultural education and then shifted into cultural anthropology because I realized during my teaching practicum that being in a traditional classroom wasn't where I felt called. I had this realization that I wanted to create educational programming, even though I had absolutely no idea what that meant at the time.
One experience from my cultural anthropology studies really stayed with me. In a hunter-gatherer seminar, I recognized that one of the universal threads across cultures is our relationship with plants—for food, clothing, shelter, medicine, and even music.
That realization eventually led me into the public garden world, where I developed gardens and educational programming that helped people connect with plants. I always say my first medium was plants. Creating gardens, thinking about place-making, landscape architecture, and the design of those spaces—that was my first artistic practice.
Around that same time, I began creating my first kinetic works. I actually started as a jeweler, making beaded earrings inspired by beads from different cultures around the world. Eventually, I started collecting things from the ground—seeds, twigs, and other natural materials—and combining them with beads to create small kinetic mobiles.
Over time, I shifted into showing work in galleries and selling objects, but I realized that wasn't really where my heart was. It was nice that people enjoyed having those pieces in their homes, but what was missing for me was the engagement. I wanted the interaction.
That's when I shifted into being what I call an artivist—using art, movement, making, and shared experiences to connect people with plants in a way that is personal and action-oriented.
I like to say that I facilitate creating art that moves—and moves you.
That idea has always been there. Nature connection has simply been the through line for many, many years.
Susan: I can absolutely resonate with nature as the through line.
And I love that phrase—art that moves and moves you.
Elayna: Early on, when people would ask what kind of art I make, I would say kinetic art. If someone knows what kinetic art is, great. If not, I might say mobiles because that's more familiar.
But I kept coming back to this idea of art that moves and moves you because the work is really about action.
When people hear the word "art," they often think about painting or sculpture or something hanging in a gallery. What I do is much more accessible. I work with natural materials that people collect themselves. We make what I call manifestation mobiles, and because those materials come from people's own neighborhoods and everyday environments, the experience becomes deeply relatable.
Suddenly, someone isn't just looking at a tree anymore—they're developing a relationship with that particular tree.
I really work to connect us with our tree-ness.
We'll often do an exercise where I invite people to become trees. I'll say, "We are trees. Strike a pose."
As we breathe in oxygen and exchange breath with trees, I remind people that we are in relationship with them. People laugh, suspend disbelief, and simply go with it. That embodiment becomes very personal, and it creates a connection with both self and surroundings.
Susan: As I'm listening, I could go in so many different directions.
I'm going to stay with the creativity piece because something stood out to me.
When you're inviting people to strike a tree pose, there's silliness in it. There's vulnerability. There's playfulness. There's creativity.
My observation of the world right now is that there's a lot of fear around everything you just described.
Can you say more about that experience? What happens when you invite people into that kind of play?
Elayna: That's a wonderful question.
I don't intentionally set out to disarm people, but that's what seems to happen. They're invited into something lighthearted, and they become free in a way that surprises them.
I do a variation of this in nonprofit and corporate settings through a workshop called Pivot with Purpose, where the mobile becomes a metaphor for balance, movement, and change.
Whether we're talking about becoming a tree or physically moving our bodies, people just seem willing to participate.
I often begin by talking about our exchange of oxygen with trees. Then I'll mention that another way we take in more oxygen is through singing. You can almost hear people thinking, Oh no...singing?
I tell them I've written a few little "ditties"—I call them that because it feels lighter than saying "songs."
Then I start singing:
"Every breath I take, I have trees to thank..."
Before long, people are swaying and singing with me.
I'm talking about CEOs. Elders. Caregivers. Young people. It doesn't seem to matter who they are.
People just go there.
Susan: It's interesting. As I'm reflecting on what you're sharing, I could go in so many different directions. I'm going to go where I last left off, which is the creativity piece.
Hearing you talk about the experience of "strike a pose, we are trees," there's silliness in that. There's vulnerability in that. Creativity in that.
It's my observation of the world these days that there's a little fear around everything I just listed. So say more about that experience and how it fits into what you're doing when you're striking a tree pose.
Elayna: Sure.
Well, in a light way—I don't do it intentionally—but people are disarmed. They're invited in. People are just free.
I do a variation of this in nonprofit and corporate settings called Pivot with Purpose. Using the mobile, the shifting, the balance—there's a lot of metaphor involved, and that's another way for people to relate. The same thing happens with being a tree and moving a little bit.
How do I get people to do that? I don't know.
People just do it.
Similarly, I open with the oxygen exchange and therefore, "I believe we are trees." Then I go into another part of the experience and explain that another way we take in more oxygen is through singing.
You can hear a little hesitation because we're socialized around singing.
So I say, "I've written some little ditties," because that feels lighter.
Then I start with:
"Every breath I take, I have trees to thank."
There it is.
They're swaying and they're singing.
With every breath, people just go there, Susan.
I'm talking CEOs, elders in caregiving groups, youth—everyone. All ages.
I don't know. I think there's probably so little opportunity to be light.
The work I do often takes me into settings with people living with cancer, caregivers, or groups going through different life experiences. Whether you're identified as part of a particular group or not, we all have challenges.
We all could use a little lightness.
I've recognized in myself—because it's reflected back to me—that my own lightness invites that. People respond to it.
And I think the play...I don't know. I can't explain it.
People just go there.
Susan: It's the best part about it, right? Not everything needs to be explained.
The experience you're describing—is that part of Tree Time, Me Time? What is that?
Elayna: Yes.
The work I do is workshop-based. It might be an hour, depending on the client. I also create large-scale, site-specific tree art installations and kinetic tree art installations.
Tree Time, Me Time is one of the workshop titles that I facilitate.
Within that, we're making manifestation mobiles.
Just to say a little more about those—one of the media I work with as an artist is the wind.
Our breath is our wind.
There's a global tradition of wishing trees. Around the world, many cultures tie ribbons onto trees. It's associated with the sacred energy of trees and the wind activating hopes, prayers, and intentions into being.
It's also related to the Tibetan prayer flags high in the mountains. Those carry prescribed prayers rather than individual intentions, but again, the wind carries those prayers into the valleys.
In my workshops, people write intentions and action-oriented statements for moving toward balance—for themselves, for trees, and for nature.
We're using pods from native plants or native trees, so there are many layers.
People connect with the trees in their neighborhoods, with their own agency, and with their own actions.
Sometimes they take the mobile home.
Other times, if it's part of a site-specific installation, it remains as part of that installation.
So there are different ways Tree Time, Me Time plays out.
Susan: It sounds like so much fun.
Thinking about the possibilities of where we could go with this...
One thing that came up for me—and I'm curious to hear your perspective as an artist—is that I've long been a fan of the You Are Beautiful project out of Chicago.
Elayna: Mm-hmm.
Susan: As an artist, you're nodding your head, so you're probably familiar with it.
I was part of the sticker club for a while. I'd receive the stickers and leave them in tip jars—with a tip—or put them out into the world.
I also have one of the script You Are Beautiful pieces hanging near a mirror in our home.
The word beauty is interesting.
For some people it feels wonderful.
For others, it's wrapped up in all kinds of stories.
Then I realized I was talking to an artist today, and I've never really had the opportunity to ask an artist about beauty.
So I'm curious about beauty and art, and whether there's a connection to wellbeing that you see.
What comes up for you when you hear that question?
Elayna: Well, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so we're told.
My approach to art-making—and using art as a tool—is really about self-expression.
For example, we create tree self-portraits.
I'm using crayons and colored pencils, and first we do an exercise where people contemplate, metaphorically:
What are your roots?
What grounds you?
What is your trunk?
What gives you stability?
What are you blooming?
After that visualization, people create their own tree self-portrait.
There isn't any standard.
It's simply what comes from within them.
Then they share that tree and say, "This is me."
So I think...
There is a growing body of work around neuroaesthetics.
I've always responded to natural beauty, and that's certainly not unique to me.
There's science behind how humans respond to green.
There's science behind how we respond to aesthetics.
My approach isn't really about high art.
I know that world, and I work in it.
But I'm much more interested in accessible, expressive art—with a little "a."
I want people to have opportunities not only to respond visually, but to express themselves and embody those experiences.
When you ask how I respond to beauty...
To me, beauty is looking at the beautiful grove of trees we are.
That's beautiful.
As someone who facilitates healing and wellbeing—that's the beauty.
Not just the aesthetic.
Susan: Yeah.My takeaway from what you shared about beauty is that beauty facilitates connection—to self, to others, and to nature.
Elayna: Yeah. Beauty is a way in.
Beauty definitely connects us with ourselves, each other, and nature.
I would even say that the beauty of nature is really the opening.
Another project—one of the site-specific installations I created—transformed everyday objects from people's junk drawers.
It was about transforming everyday objects into art.
What looks like junk in the junk drawer becomes beautiful when it's strung together.
We're doing community stringing bees, and that community connection—that's the beauty.
As we connect one object to another, we're physically connecting those objects, and we're metaphorically connecting with ourselves, with each other, and with the trees we're working with.
That, to me, is the real beauty.
Seeing this 90-plus-year-old kapok tree transformed into a kinetic sculpture with upcycled objects from the community—that was pure magic.
As creators, you have this vision. You had this vision of doing this podcast. You have the idea, and then all that it takes to make it happen. What it becomes is so much more than what we could imagine.
When I submitted the proposal for the kapok tree to become a community tree creation, it became pure magic.
It wasn't junk in a junk drawer anymore. It was all these gorgeous objects and their stories. All of that uplifts people.
With nature and natural beauty, I think when you talk about the connotations of beauty, you're talking about the commercialization of the beauty industry, maybe. I don't know.
Susan: Yeah, I think that's part of what comes up for me.
My takeaway from what you shared is that beauty facilitates connection—to self, to others, and to nature.
Elayna: Yeah. Beauty is a way in.
Susan: I like that.
Elayna: I think the beauty of nature is really the opening.
There's a phrase—I want to say "green blindness," although that may not be exactly right.
People don't even see the plants around them.
There's a lack of awareness.
So I think helping people to see...
Both in terms of access and awareness...
Really, that's part of the focus for me when I'm facilitating forest bathing and guided walks.
A lot of times I'm not taking people to a park or a nature preserve.
I do that too.
But often we're at a community center.
We walk outside.
We're in the parking lot looking at the trees.
We're collecting things from the ground beneath those trees.
We're making things with those things.
It changes that experience.
Then, when people are at the grocery store, dropping off the kids at school, or driving down the street, all of a sudden they've started to notice.
I've helped bring trees into focus in their everyday life.
We know the positive effects of being in nature and looking at nature.
That is part of my mission.
Susan: I think it's a great mission.
You hit on something that opens up accessibility for everyone—or at least it brings up an idea for me.
Helping people simply see is something everyone can do.
If someone is wondering where to begin, what I hear is...
Especially in the Northern Hemisphere this time of year...
Notice what's growing in the sidewalk cracks.
That's the beginning.
For me, because it's not normally there, I notice what's new.
What's growing there?
I also love the idea of simply asking, "Do you know what kinds of trees grow around you?"
In your yard.
In your neighborhood.
In your park.
Elayna: Yeah.
What you're bringing up has been a really fun shift for me with forest bathing.
As a horticulture and plant knowledge person, yes, I know the names of this plant and that plant.
Before my forest bathing training, there was already some tree naming because wherever I am, I work with the trees that are there.
People can certainly learn tree names.
But in the forest bathing approach, none of that is important.
None of the factoids are important.
To your point...
It's about noticing.
Facilitating, guiding, and inviting people.
To me, it's an invitation to notice.
It's an invitation to look outside the window and notice.
It's an invitation to open the window and notice.
Beyond whatever happens during the guided walk or the facilitated experience, it's what happens afterward.
Whether someone joins me every week or just comes to one experience, they leave with that invitation to notice.
I'm big on prompts.
People take home their mobile, and as it turns in front of a fan or in a window, it's a reminder to move toward balance.
The tree self-portrait reminds you that you are a tree.
I love what you said.
The invitation to notice.
I think we can do a lot for people simply by giving them a little focus.
Susan: Yeah. A focus and an invitation, because for so many folks they don't know where to start. It seems overwhelming, or maybe even scary.The beginning is simply asking, What can you notice?
I just had an image in my head of an author, and I can't remember who it was, who talked about how he started noticing the trees that lined his driveway.
The more he paid attention to those trees, the more he began to feel like they were watching his arrival and his departure. They became a presence within the space.
It shifted his relationship with a lot of things, and it all started with the trees along the path to his home.
Elayna: I love that.
We also invite people to notice change in their surroundings.
Through metaphor, we might look at a tree gently moving in the breeze and ask, What does that remind you of in yourself?
"It reminds me of flexibility."
"It reminds me of calm."
It's not exactly the same as the driveway experience you shared, but you begin to develop a relationship not only with the trees, but with yourself.
Susan: Yeah.
One of the things I talk about a lot on this podcast is remembering.
What came up for me while you were talking was one of the metaphors I use in a workshop I facilitate—the incredible resilience of palm trees.
They can be completely underwater for days, and then when the water recedes, they usually come through just fine.
They were designed for that.
That metaphor is the foundation of one of the workshops I teach.
What does it take to help us, as humans, become more resilient?
We are designed for it.
We just forget.
Elayna: Brilliant.
Yes. Yes.
When people hear the word art, they don't necessarily think about music. Music tends to be its own category.
But singing is art.
Besides the fact that my name is Elayna Toby Singer...
I grew up singing.
I've always felt uplifted by it.
There's science behind that, of course.
When we were little, we learned the alphabet through singing. We learned many things through singing.
It's another way of helping people remember.
It's a remembering of what they experienced during that hour.
They're humming afterward.
Some of the little ditties I use borrow familiar melodies.
Some people recognize them, and some don't, because everyone has different experiences.
For example:
"Oh, native trees, oh native trees, thank you for all you do..."
Whether people recognize the melody or not, it's still a melody.
When we sing instead of simply saying the words, it feels different.
Part of what intuitively emerged in these experiences was creating ways for people to remember.
Ways to carry the experience beyond that one hour.
To me, that's important.
It's part of the empowerment.
You may find this interesting, too, since you're an educator.
Harvard's Graduate School of Education has an initiative called Agency by Design.
I've adapted some of their thinking around the maker movement.
When we make things—when we use our hands—and especially when we make things with other people, we better understand how things work.
It helps us connect.
That community and belonging piece becomes really important.
The more modalities we engage...
The more multisensory the experience...
The greater the impact.
There are simply more levels of influence.
Coming from a traditional educational background that focused almost entirely on information...
Information.
Information.
Information.
Yes, I can teach you how planting trees along a stream bank reduces erosion, improves water quality, and all the rest.
Those things matter.
But when the learning happens through play, through multiple senses, and people leave with something tangible—a memento...
Those layers of reinforcement are baked into the experience.
Susan: Yeah.
Baked into the experience...
And then woven into the human.
The more we interact with something through our senses, the more likely we are to learn it, remember it, and use it.
There's so much here.
I wish you didn't live in a different state.
We could do some really cool things together.
Elayna: Well...I go anywhere.
I come anywhere.
Susan: We'll keep that in mind.
One thing I wanted to come back to...
Your "We are trees" idea reminded me of my years as a middle school teacher.
So much of what we're talking about is expression.
Expression can happen through countless mediums.
Art is expression.
As you pointed out earlier, this podcast is art.
There's an art to it.
We're creating something.
Elayna: It's a creation.
I actually think creator is a better word than artist.
Because we all create.
When people say, "I'm not creative," I always say...
"No.
Yes, you are."
Susan: I love that.
Creator is a great word.
It reminds me of something I used to tell my students.
Whenever I'd ask them to draw, there was always anxiety about drawing themselves.
My response was always:
"Stick people are people too."
I've been saying that for years.
It fits your tree analogy perfectly.
Elayna: It really does.
When people create a tree version of themselves, they look at it and they see themselves.
They are tree.
Tree is me.
Sometimes there are human characteristics in the drawing.
Sometimes there aren't.
It's really about the narrative they're putting into what they're creating.
Sometimes people share tree stories as part of that experience.
Another way in is inviting culturally specific tree stories and culturally specific tree experiences.
People love talking about those things.
They just rarely have the opportunity outside of family.
Even when people already know one another, they discover things they never knew because of these prompts.
It's not everyday conversation.
But it's deeply relatable.
People immediately connect with it.
Susan: It sparks connection.
Conversation.
It opens people up.
Elayna: Exactly.
Elayna: Exactly.I think when people ask what kind of work I do, the simplest answer is that I facilitate connection—with self and with the natural environment.
That connection with self is a really big piece.
It's about creating space for that.
Going back to the intentions and the manifestation mobile, sometimes it's simply recognizing right from the start:
You had an intention.
You had an idea.
You followed through.
You got here.
Recognizing that becomes the building block for the experience we're about to have together.
Then whatever else follows...
I'm really facilitating change.
Often, at the end of these experiences, we're saying:
"Change, change, change... we are change."
We say it.
We sing it.
We own it.
Because every single day...
Am I eating the cookie?
Am I making a different choice?
We're always making choices.
Taking even five minutes to walk outside during a busy day can be a challenge.
Even for those of us who feel deeply connected to nature.
So anything we can do to give people support, reminders, and encouragement...
Susan: Yeah.
It's a lovely reminder.
One of the things that came up for me as you were sharing is the way your work weaves nature into creating connection.
Then another thought came up.
The world we live in today is really a three-layered existence.
There's the natural world.
The built world.
And the artificial world.
We're part of all three.
One of the things we're struggling with collectively is belonging.
As I was listening to you, I found myself wondering whether part of our struggle with belonging to one another is actually connected to our disconnection from nature.
Sometimes I think we believe we're something other than nature.
We identify more with the built world or the artificial world than the natural one.
As I hear you describe your work, it feels like you're gently breaking down that wall.
People begin to remember their nature.
They remember they belong.
They're part of a community.
They're safe.
They're going to be okay.
Elayna: Thank you.
Yes.
Yes.
I just got chills.
Helping people see...
We're surrounded by what I sometimes call "Generica America."
Strip malls.
Parking lots.
Everything paved over.
Trees removed.
Just three generations ago, wherever we are, there were more trees.
More prairies.
More native plants.
Whatever the natural habitat was.
There was simply more of it.
Today there's less.
That means we have to work harder.
We have to be more mindful about seeking that connection because it isn't automatically surrounding us anymore.
I love your observation.
It really resonates with me.
It mirrors what I see in participants.
People can absolutely experience the benefits of expressive arts in many ways.
I'm currently working with a caregiver group alongside colleagues.
One person focuses on movement.
Another uses drawing.
We each bring different modalities.
But for me...
Nature is the medium.
Nature is the primary medium.
It's an interesting question to consider.
How is it different when people create using nature?
Just yesterday one of my colleagues facilitated an activity using old album covers to create collages.
People had a wonderful experience.
There was self-reflection.
There were all the documented benefits of the arts for mental and physical health.
It was all there.
But how is that different from creating with imagery that's entirely rooted in nature?
Or from an experience where nature is the beginning, the middle, and the end?
It's woven through everything.
I truly believe we are nature.
We are of nature.
Remembering that awakens something.
Excuse the pun...
It's deeply rooted in us.
When we tap into that...
I think it awakens something we've forgotten.
I don't want to say we've evolved away from it...
Because how could we?
We literally used to live in the trees.
Part of my cultural anthropology background keeps me deeply connected to Indigenous cultures.
That relationship with trees and plants—for food, clothing, shelter, medicine, music, and way of life—is so different from our modern world that's been removed from nature.
Susan: Yeah.
Absolutely.
I feel like we could talk for a really long time.
We're getting to the point where we need to start bringing this home.
And you never have to apologize for using a rooted pun.
Not on this podcast.
I love a good nature metaphor.
Susan: So, one thing I was thinking...I've got two questions before we head into the lightning round of Natural Favorites.
I'm putting you on the spot, so it's okay if nothing comes to mind.
Thinking about our conversation today—and I kept coming back to the prompts you were talking about—I wondered if there's a prompt that you think would be helpful for listeners to consider, given everything we've talked about today.
Something we haven't already touched on.
Elayna: A favorite prompt is to invite people to step outside.
If that's not possible, then simply look out the window more regularly.
Ask yourself:
What do you notice that is green?
That isn't always possible. It may not be in your view.
Even stepping outside, there may not be much green.
So the first prompt is simply:
What do you notice?
What is green?
The second prompt is to notice movement in the trees.
Notice the wind.
Notice the breeze.
I haven't studied this specifically, but I know it intuitively, and I'm sure there's neuroscience behind it.
It's not an accident that there are little mobiles over our cribs.
It's not an accident that we're rocked as babies.
When we look at the movement of trees in the breeze—the green and the movement together—I believe they have positive physical, mental, and emotional benefits.
So that's the invitation.
Look outside.
See what the wind is moving.
And then notice...
What is it moving in you?
How does it make you feel?
Susan: Pausing long enough for that second part is really the key.
Elayna: Exactly.
It's not just observing a tree moving.
It's observing the tree...
...and then noticing how you feel.
Susan: That was a beautiful prompt.
I'm going to put that into practice today—or tomorrow.
Before we head into the lightning round of fun questions, is there anything else you were hoping to share today?
Elayna: I think we covered it.
Really...
It's simply an invitation to go outside.
To look outside.
I think we've certainly covered that.
Susan: I like it.
Well, as you know—because you've listened to one of the episodes—we always end with Natural Favorites.
I run through a few fun questions related to nature so listeners can get to know you in a different way.
And I always learn something from this part.
So...
Since we've talked about trees so much, this feels like the obvious first question.
What is your favorite tree?
Elayna: Oh, my goodness.
I don't know that I have a favorite tree.
I do love the sound of palm trees in the breeze.
I live in Florida.
You mentioned launching this version of the podcast in February.
I also moved to a new home in February, and I was really determined to find a place where I could hear palm trees.
I love both that visual—going back to the prompt we just discussed—and the sound.
Susan: I hadn't really contemplated until now that palm trees have a sound.
I'm a big fan of the sound of wind through white pines.
So...palms.
Next time I'm in Florida, I'm going to pay attention.
Elayna: Yes!
Actually, locally my favorite habitat is pine flatwoods.
I love those pines too.
Being in those pines when the wind is moving through them...
I love that.
Susan: It's hard to pick just one.
Favorite time of day to be outside?
Elayna: Morning.
Sunrise.
Possibility.
Opening to what may be.
Opening to what is.
Susan: I like that.
Favorite season?
Elayna: Hmm...
Well, I'm originally from Chicago.
I didn't realize until I became a Floridian about 25 years ago just how much I love warm weather.
I guess...summer.
Or really, anywhere that's warm.
Susan: I'm with you.
Warm—and humid.
I'm with you.
Elayna: I love it.
When I lived in Philadelphia, I didn't even have air conditioning.
My family thought I was crazy.
But it worked for me.
Susan: As long as everyone else can tolerate it!
Given that you're a creator...
Favorite texture in nature?
Elayna: Hmm...
Favorite texture...
I love the diversity of leaf shapes.
When I garden—and right now I do a lot of container gardening—it's really the variety of shapes.
Not necessarily texture in the sense of touch.
More the layering of different greens and different leaf forms.
I love that.
Green.
Green.
Green.
Susan: Green and more green.
All right...
Last question.
You have a dandelion that's gone to seed.
You get one wish for nature, humanity, wellbeing—whatever you'd like.
What would you wish?
Elayna: I would wish for everyone to have access to green space.
Whether it's a street tree...
Or a nearby park.
As I'm sure you're aware, there are issues of equity in this country—and around the world—regarding access to green space.
People who don't have that access are simply not as healthy.
Physically.
Emotionally.
We know that when we're around green—when we even see green—it improves our health and wellbeing.
So my wish would be...
That everyone has access to green space.
Susan: I like it.
I'm on board.
Thank you for spending time with me today.
Elayna: Thank you so much.
It's been really fun.
And I so appreciate your insights and perspectives, Susan.
Really lovely.
