I grew up outside a small university town in Connecticut, on a dead-end road far from any traffic. Our yard had trees, a vegetable garden, and a river running through the back. In summer the leaves were thick enough that we couldn't see the neighbors' houses — we were inside nature, not beside it. The sounds were birds and water.

I've been finding my way back to that ever since. Time present in nature is a cure — it soothes what aches in the soul. It's also prevention: real, measurable, physical change in the brain and body.

Since having children — and then watching them move out into their own lives — the first time I really noticed I was on vacation, it was day two…

The technology is sophisticated. The service is exceptional. The natural world immersion is genuinely exciting. So why does the feeling fade so soon after guests return to their lives?

In the 1980s, fascia was called “inert tissue.” Filler. Surgeons cut through it to get to the structures that mattered. Anatomy professors pulled it off cadavers and threw it away.

A few decades later, we discovered it has more sensory nerve endings than muscle. It’s critical for proprioception, pain signaling, and structural integrity. Some researchers still deny it.

I’ve been thinking about what else we might be throwing away right now.