You may be thinking of Morita Therapy, a distinctly Japanese school of psychotherapy created by psychiatrist Shōma Morita (1874–1938) in the early 20th century. Nature is important to it, but it is deeper than simply “spending time in nature.”
Its central principle is arugamama — あるがまま, roughly: things as they are.
The radical idea is:
You do not need to fix your feelings before you act.
Anxiety? Let it exist.
Fear? Let it exist.
Sadness? Let it exist.
Self-consciousness? Let it exist.
Then ask:
What does reality require me to do right now?
And do that.
Morita saw emotions as natural phenomena rather than problems that must constantly be manipulated. Just as clouds form, rain falls, wind changes, and seasons pass, psychological states arise and disappear. Trying desperately to eliminate an unwanted feeling can paradoxically make us more preoccupied with it.
This is where the nature philosophy becomes powerful.
You don’t command the weather.
You don’t command whether the cherry blossoms fall.
You don’t command whether your heart suddenly feels nervous.
But you can move your body.
You can walk.
You can work.
You can clean.
You can make something.
You can speak to somebody.
You can photograph.
You can lift.
Morita’s classical treatment actually progressed from rest into increasingly purposeful activity: initial bed rest, light occupational activity, heavier physical work, and eventually reintegration into ordinary social life.
So Morita is almost the opposite of:
“I must feel good before I live.”
Instead:
“I will live fully while allowing myself to feel whatever I happen to feel.”
And this differs subtly from simply “relaxing in nature.”
Shinrin-yoku — forest bathing says, broadly: immerse yourself in the forest and receive some of the restorative effects of the environment.
Morita says something more existential: realize that you yourself are part of nature.
Your anxiety is nature.
Your excitement is nature.
Your heartbeat is nature.
Your desires are nature.
The changing external world is nature.
Therefore the goal isn’t necessarily to manufacture tranquility. It is to stop fighting the fact that reality is constantly moving. The scholarly literature describes arugamama as involving both acceptance of emotional experience and the simultaneous expression of one’s desire for life.
That second half is crucial.
Morita isn’t:
accept everything → become passive.
It is:
accept everything → liberate your energy for action.
This is why I think the philosophy becomes particularly interesting when applied to walking and street photography.
Imagine walking through Tokyo.
Instead of:
“Do I feel confident enough to photograph?”
Morita:
Confidence is irrelevant. See something interesting? Photograph it.
Instead of:
“How do I stop feeling awkward?”
Morita:
Let awkwardness accompany you. Keep walking.
Instead of:
“How do I make myself fearless?”
Morita:
You don’t. Fear can ride along while your legs keep moving.
That is an extraordinarily powerful distinction.
Courage no longer requires the destruction of fear.
Courage becomes action with fear present.
And perhaps the deepest Morita insight is:
Don’t make your internal weather the ruler of your external life.
Rain does not ask permission before falling.
Your emotions don’t either.
Let the rain fall.
And keep walking.