Unplugged

Feeling trapped and tied to technology, Iris Ramirez- Alvarez examines a world disconnected from nature.

By Iris Ramirez-Alvarez

I found myself standing at the top of the world on Spencer Butte. I hiked all the way up to get a glimpse of Eugene and Springfield. I balanced on a big rock with my muddy sneakers, letting the scorching hot sun sting my back, wrapping me in its warmth. The sky was a soft shade of blue, no clouds in sight. I could see miles upon miles from where I stood. The world looked so small and harmless. I could see trees, a variety of them. There were small trees, tall trees, trees with no leaves, and trees that were covered in green. The world had never looked so peaceful. The fresh smell of flowers, the sound of birds chirping as they soared through the sky, and the breeze flowing through my hair all overwhelmed my senses. I felt peace, a feeling that had become so foreign.

I looked behind me and saw the big city. I could hear so much more from that direction. I pictured the sound of cars racing down the streets, the flashing of open signs turning on and off throughout the day, and the loud vibrant noise that came from the crowds of people going about their day. It was the opposite of nature. There was no sense of relief or peace. At that moment, I did not want to go back. I was overcome by a wave of sadness. I didn’t belong in the city. I was happier here, without worry or responsibility. I wanted to wait for the sky to turn into a mix of warm oranges and pinks until the stars appeared and the night had taken over the world. As much as I wished to stay on top of this mountain, I couldn’t stay forever. Just like everybody else, I had obligations. I was a daughter, a student, and a person who was just starting their life, and had to work to survive.

The following day, my head rested against the white frame of my bedroom window as I stared out onto my street waiting for something exciting to happen. The now familiar view of the same houses bored me. The only time I enjoyed looking through my window was when the weather fluctuated as the seasons passed. Everything else remained the same. I had only been in this house for a couple months, and I had already memorized everything about the street. My bedroom window was small, but it was on the second floor which allowed me to look out into my neighborhood. Right in front of me was my neighbor’s pink house which blocked the view of the rest of the houses. Their garden had pink hibiscus flowers decorating every inch of their yard, and a ton of other plants whose names remained a mystery. I could faintly hear the sound of the cars passing by the perfectly cemented road.

It was no different than every other house I had lived in. I was a part of a family of six, including my feisty beige and white puppy. Like every other typical family, we had our differences and most of the time went on about our days. Of my two sisters, the oldest went to work almost every day, while I stayed behind to take care of the youngest. With my parents constantly at work, it gave me time to be alone and daydream. But in reality I was stuck at home during a pandemic with nothing to do but school work.

The only time I ever felt a sense of excitement was when I left the house, no matter the destination. My life had never felt so repetitive. It was a daily cycle, waking up, dealing with the world, and falling asleep in the comfort of my cozy room. Life felt like a constant pattern, as if everything was planned out for me. As a result, a tension with societal expectations threatens to overwhelm me. The way I talk, what I wear, and how I act seem predetermined, creating conflict with who I really am. I feel exhausted. I want change. I pondered a world without judgement.

If I could change anything, I would rid the world of hate. It’s normal for people to judge, to be so invested in their lives rather than seeing value in others. Without noticing, we separate ourselves from the natural world and we don’t give each other, or ourselves, time to heal and grow, even though we’re all so similar. The world seems full of disappointment.

Not one day goes by that I don’t feel against the world. There seems to be more time for hate than for love. I feel like I cannot breathe. But when I visit nature I see how things are so connected. We’re just like trees. We grow up, we create families, and they create branches, providing homes for the little creatures of the world. They give oxygen, create shade, even beauty, and constantly give back to the larger environment.

For us, our environment is our community, and sometimes we fail to give back to it. Instead of coming together as a whole, we often focus only on individual success. We are defined by our accomplishments, as well as our mistakes. But what might matter most is connecting to something bigger than ourselves.

The world can be cruel, but I always come back to nature. No matter where I am, whether it’s sitting by a river, hiking a trail, or laying against a tree, a haven awaits. I walk a new path that leads to more green beauty. I feel as though nothing can touch me, or harm me. I feel okay. The flowers don’t judge what I wear, the grass doesn’t care about what I say, and the sky doesn’t care about what I do. Nature won’t judge me. Standing here, I can be myself. I can live. Not only is nature my escape from the world, it’s a place I can share with everyone, for it brings me back to reality, reminding me of what matters most.