Resilience Rooted in Nature and Humanity
- Jan 2
- 5 min read
Written by Joanne Louise Bray, Founder of Plantlife Joy
Joanne Bray is the proud founder of Plantlife Joy. Her journey began with a deep love of nature and the belief that plants have the power to bring happiness, tranquility, and a touch of magic to our lives. Plantlife Joy specialises in plant knowledge, and our mission is to connect people back to the beauty of the natural world.
My last article explored empaths and how they can protect their energy. That piece, alongside conversations on Threads, led me to create a course for empaths focused on self-love, setting boundaries, and learning how to say no without guilt or self-sabotage.
Today, I want to write about resilience. It is often framed as a purely human trait, yet nature teaches it to us in its purest form. Cut plants back, and they return. Freeze them, and they wait patiently for spring. Seeds lie dormant until conditions change. Resilience in nature is not loud or forceful, it is quiet, patient, and enduring.
Being connected to nature can bring a fuller understanding of life. Recently, isolation has been my companion. Yet in the few face-to-face interactions I’ve had, I’ve encountered people who carry stories of trauma and survival, often living quietly alongside pets or plants, or who have shown empathy and kindness toward my current situation. Their resilience mirrors the plants I tend to, and their support mirrors the unseen mycelial networks beneath the forest floor. These encounters have reminded me that resilience is not abstract, it is lived, often in silence, often against the odds.
Nature’s lessons
Plants regrow after being cut back, just as people rebuild after trauma. Seeds wait until conditions are right, just as human potential waits for opportunity. Roots sustain life underground, just as communities and inner strength sustain those who are unseen. Nature’s resilience is not romanticised, it is practical and adaptive. So too is human resilience, whether in the face of isolation, grief, or homelessness.
We often view nature through a lens of destruction, storms that uproot trees, predators that hunt prey, and weeds that overtake gardens. This framing suggests that humanity is somehow separate from or superior to nature, more ordered, more civilised. Yet this could not be further from the truth. Most of nature operates through cooperation. Even apparent enemies play roles that sustain balance. Predators keep populations healthy. Fire clears space for new growth. What appears to be conflict is often collaboration at a deeper level.
The paradox of wealth and homelessness
It is confronting to realise how many people experience homelessness in countries of wealth, where systems and charities are expected to provide support. Homelessness is not confined to stereotypes of addiction or former servicemen. It affects families, single people, and professionals, anyone whose circumstances shift suddenly.
Experiencing homelessness is profoundly destabilising, and for some, it is not a one-time event but a recurring cycle. In nations of abundance, this paradox exposes how fragile human security truly is, and how resilience is demanded of those who should never have to prove it. If homelessness were solely the result of a natural disaster, a flood, fire, or earthquake, it might feel more comprehensible when it arises instead from human systems, it becomes evidence of collective failure.
Unlike nature, where even apparent enemies work together to sustain balance, human societies too often leave their most vulnerable to endure alone. Resilience in nature is not about domination, but coexistence. It emerges through cycles, adaptation, and quiet agreements that sustain life. In ecosystems, resilience is shared: forests thrive because trees exchange nutrients through their roots. Humanity, by contrast, frequently withholds support, leaving individuals to struggle in isolation. How does it reach a point where so many fall into homelessness in countries rich in resources? Wealth should provide security, yet homelessness reveals the fractures in our systems.
Homelessness is not simply the result of personal choice or misfortune, it is evidence of systemic failure. It grows from rising housing costs, unstable housing or employment, inadequate safety nets, and stigma that isolates rather than supports. These are systems that leave many without help while failing to address root causes. Homelessness is not a personal failure, it is a collective one. When profit is prioritised over people, resilience becomes a burden carried by those least resourced to bear it.
If we learned from nature, we would understand that resilience flourishes through cooperation. Just as ecosystems adapt through shared strength, our societies could create safety nets that honour dignity and prevent trauma before it begins. Those who experience homelessness are not undignified, on the contrary, many are making impossible choices to protect their sense of self, their future stability, or their ability to rebuild within increasingly restrictive systems.
Lived experience
I am speaking from experience. Recently, I became homeless. After struggling to find employment, I sought support through Universal Credit. In my case, assistance was conditional on closing my Payhip site, which hosts my membership platform, courses, and artwork. I declined. I believe deeply that my work will one day help many people. I could have demonstrated my lack of income through bank statements or site analytics, yet that option was not accepted.
I contacted several charities, but they were unable to help. Unable to keep up with rent payments, I had no choice but to sell my belongings and terminate my tenancy. Sorting through a house full of possessions and deciding what to keep was gut-wrenching. Even harder was telling my sons that they could no longer come to stay with me. During that month, my mum, brother, youngest son, and a friend supported me in practical and emotional ways. My mum also helped by paying for storage for the items I could not sell. I have somewhere safe to stay, and for that I am profoundly grateful. Many people do not have this level of support, and if you have experienced homelessness without it, I am deeply sorry that we live in a world that so often places profit above care for people and for the planet.
What remains
This experience has taught me much. Possessions are largely irrelevant in the grand scheme of life, they offer brief comfort but rarely meaning. What matters most are the people who stand beside you when you reach rock bottom, and the quiet resilience that allows you to keep going even when the ground has fallen away beneath you. Nature reminds us that survival is not about standing alone, but about connection. Perhaps if we listened more closely, we might learn how to build systems that reflect that truth. Right now, I feel like a seed planted in the soil, resting, gathering strength, getting ready to grow. I have so much respect for others who have navigated this terrain too, finding resilience in places few ever see.
Read more from Joanne Louise Bray
Joanne Louise Bray, Founder of Plantlife Joy
Joanne Bray is a leader in plant life, she has been to the darkest depths of despair with her mental health. Nurturing plants and learning all about them led to her own healing journey. She discovered the immense joy and mindfulness that nurturing plants provides, so she began to write about them within her membership site, create courses, paint parts of nature that she fell in love with, and write books in the hope of sharing her passion and helping others to connect back to the beauty and wonder that nature supplies. Joanne is very passionate about eradicating the use of chemicals in gardening, and so she offers solutions using plants that either attract beneficial insects or deter pests.
