Here Comes the Sun: Gen Z’s Renaissance of Environmental Spirituality
The grassy center of Colony Square is typically quiet — the perfect place to sit back and enjoy some Unbeliebubble tea while you work through your summer reading. But once a year, the turf disappears under a field of yoga mats, and regular business is replaced by the scent of burning sage and the melodic hum of singing bowls. The square becomes packed with visitors, all coming together in meditation as the sun rises on the longest day of the year.
Summer Solstice on the Square, a free event that will occur on Friday, June 17 at Colony Square, allows participants to celebrate the start of summer and set their intentions for the new season. Solstice celebrations are pervasive across cultures and time periods, from the Ancient Roman celebration of Vestalia to Victorian Christmas traditions. Today, communities adopt habits that honor the natural world in both big and small ways, even if it’s as simple making plans to view the lunar eclipse. But what is it about the natural world that is so magnetic, particularly to religious communities, and why are solstice celebrations seeing a resurgence in popularity?
“I think people are moving away from traditionally organized religious structures. I’m not entirely convinced they are any less interested in spirituality,” says Dr. Daryl Van Tongeren, associate professor of psychology at Hope College. “Rather, I think they are looking for it through other venues outside of religion.” Van Tongeren notes that there may be a number of diverse, nuanced reasons for young people losing interest in religious structures, but that they maintain a need for a greater sense of community and purpose.
As Gen Z enters the workforce, catalyzing a new wave of values and challenging traditions, it seems they are rediscovering this sense of purpose in the wilderness. They would not be alone — many of our modern-day holidays can be traced back to pagan celebrations of the natural world. Even Epiphany, the day on which the Magi visited Baby Jesus, has its origins in an ancient Italian and pagan legend, in which a witch named Befana flies over fields of cold, winter soil, sprinkling fertilizer to prepare them for the warmer months. This act of rebirth was said to occur exactly 12 days after the Roman celebration of Sol Invictus, the god of the Sun, which eventually served as the foundation for Christmas.
Katlyn Gonzalez, a university student in Georgia, says that she is more interested in acknowledging solstices and equinoxes than the traditional Christian holidays she was brought up celebrating. “In the past, my roommates and I would acknowledge the summer solstice together and have a nice meal and maybe do some tarot readings,” says Gonzalez. “Normally, I wouldn’t spend too much time acknowledging it alone. Personally, I have had better experiences with my own spirituality when reflecting by myself than with others.”
This individualistic orientation is increasingly common among young people who are creating their own spiritual identities. But contrary to popular belief, this doesn’t mean that young people are any less interested in the collective wellness of their communities. Dr. Don Davis, associate professor of psychology at Georgia State University, says that genuine trust occurs when people not only want to benefit others but have the skills to act on these intentions. Individuals are searching for a community that generates margin so that it can be generous, both within the community, as well as to the broader society in which it is embedded.
In “New Spirituality and Social Engagement,” Joantine Berghuijs states, “Individualists tend to stand up for the rights of individuals, not only for the rights of themselves but for the rights of others. Individualism has been shown to positively relate to civic engagement and trust and to charitable giving and volunteering.” And since 76% of Gen Z are concerned about humanity’s impact on the planet, it’s no surprise that this civic engagement often manifests itself in the form of environmental activism.
Naturally, this overwhelming concern carries into interpersonal relationships and the way young people interact with the natural world.
Justin Sykes, a former fellow at Atlanta’s Quaker Voluntary Service, was introduced to his spiritual practice when a friend invited him to Shiloh Quaker Camp when he was 11 years old. Sykes has returned to camp every year since then, now serving as a counselor. At Shiloh, camp goers participate in a variety of activities that encapsulate the quintessential summer camp experience, from canoeing to bonfire building, from rock climbing to songwriting. It wasn’t until recently that he recognized the religious nature of his experience.
Once a week, everyone ventures out of the camp and spends two nights in the surrounding forest, building a sense of “personal growth in the challenges of the wild,” as it’s described on Shiloh’s website. Sykes says that the opportunity to make friends and explore nature was the most alluring aspect of camp as a child, and that holds true for him today. “I’m not Quaker, but I agree with … a lot of the spiritual ways Quaker hold space.”
For Sykes, holding space means meditating, focusing on simplistic living, and paying attention to the Earth. Some of the oldest forms of mediation examine these principles, such as Taoism, which guides practitioners into becoming one with “cosmic life” or nature. One of the traditional Taoist meditation techniques is Bao Pu, which roughly translates to “embrace simplicity.” Today, individuals can explore these principles in the comfort of their own backyard, just as Sykes does.
Many of his current practices came from how Quakerism has influenced him, but he doesn’t feel a need to scramble for a label. “I’d rather connect with nature than God — how Christians think of God.”
Gonzalez says that her own relationship with religion has been heavily informed by the flaws she’s witnessed in other larger organized structures. “I feel like most young people are interested in this innate purity that exists in nature because it contrasts so greatly from what exists in our society,” says Gonzalez.
In her practice with solstice celebrations and tarot readings, she seeks to counteract what she describes as a constant uphill battle against capitalism and exploitative work culture. Her practice offers fleeting liberation from the noise of our modern world. It’s a grounding escape, not unlike the philosophy behind transcendentalism, a way of thought rooted in the divine power of nature, which took hold of artists and writers in the 1830s. In the 1980s, aspects of this philosophy became so mainstream that it developed its own new terminology: forest bathing. While this activity is informed by science rather than the divine, it is still used as a way to practice mindfulness by connecting with the environment. The concept began at the dawn of the digital age, offering relief from an increasing sense of technological fatigue. The physiological benefits of forest bathing are indisputable, which is why it is often referred to as a form of ecotherapy.
“When we turn to organized religion, we are thrown into another toxic system that aims to control the way we think and act. With spirituality that focuses around nature, we spend more time connecting with ourselves and with the earth around us,” says Gonzalez.
Rabbi Jordan Braunig, the Jewish Chaplin for the Office of Spiritual and Religious Life at Emory University, says that this aspect of environmental spirituality is appealing across religions. “Even for me, the practice of Shabbat is Jewish, traditional spiritual practice, but also appreciating nature and not consuming. It’s a day off from capitalism, in some ways. It feels good for the soul and good for the world.”
If individuals are looking for a day off from capitalism, it’s no wonder they turn to solstice celebrations and equinoxes — most ancient religious calendars align with the agricultural cycle, and some variation of a sun deity is present in almost every early religion. “For many students, connecting to the land-based nature of their traditions is anchoring and a counterbalance to living in the digital realm,” says Braunig.
Appreciating nature, putting our hands into the earth, and doing some metaphorical (or better yet, literal) gardening are important reminders. If we give ourselves permission to slow down, we can “tend to the ‘garden’ the same way we tend to our own needs,” as Braunig says. These rituals can be symbolic of caring for ourselves, but they also enable us to support a greater, more tangible source — Earth itself.
This upcoming solstice, you may feel inspired to acknowledge the season in a new way. Perhaps you’ll try a guided mediation or ask your friend to do a tarot reading. Or perhaps you’ll take a long walk through a nearby park, experiment with the benefits of forest bathing, then write your ambitions on a slip of paper and burn it in a bonfire at midnight. If you’re at a loss, check with your office intern or college-aged family member — chances are, they might have a few suggestions.
The natural world is demanding our attention. Gen Z will be the ones to answer that call, whether it’s through protests or prayer.
