Some of Us Just Fall: On Nature and Not Getting Better.
Polly Atkin’s very personal book, Some of Us Just Fall, is an intricate memoir of a person with a chronic illness. It is a testimony of how illness affects her body and mind and of the interactions with the many healthcare professionals along the way. It is a discovery of Polly, where she finds herself now, where she is from and all that connects them.

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again; Books like Some of Us Just Fall exemplify why it is so vital to read about the lived experiences of others that are so different from your own. Through the pages of a book the writer has the space to paint a vivid emotional picture that I don’t find in other media and this is certainly what Polly does here. There were many times I felt frustrated by the dismissive and patronising responses she received from doctors over and again when she was clearly in incredible pain and discomfort. I felt anger about the plethora of restrictions on disabled people in our society and I felt relief and optimisim when Polly described receiving her diagnosis. And although the diagnosis in itself isn’t the the conclusion of the story, there is unquestionably much hope in this book as well as blunt reality, thank goodness.
The locations of Nottinghamshire where Polly grew up and the Lake District where she lives now are important places in the story which she weaves through her family history and the management of her day to day life. Polly’s descriptions of the wild backdrop of her current home and particularly her swims in the lake evoke the beauty and challenge of someone finding their way in an unpredictable body and potentially treacherous surroundings.
The book’s tagline ‘On Nature and Not Getting Better’ is what drew me immediately to this title. I have read so many books and papers about the numerous benefits of nature on mental and physical health, I was looking forward to delving deep into the perspective that nature may not have the answers. Polly clearly feels strongly that the concept of ‘The Nature Cure’ disregards the needs of people with chronic and incurable illness and disabilities and I absolutely agree. The idea that nature alone and in itself is the great panacea is, of course, untenable. I would be fascinated learn more of Polly’s and others’ thoughts, experiences and observations on this. Perhaps there is scope for a whole other book solely on this topic? I think so.
I hope that in the wider world of modern green therapy (in my experience, social and therapeutic horticulture) there is more of a focus on person centred practice. During my time working in inner city community gardens, this was certainly the aim. The focus was never that nature could cure everything (or anything) but that it could be a supportive tool to help address aspects of wellbeing. And we witnessed this in action in urban areas where access to green space is limited. The conversation that Polly has started here is important to continue. We need more voices than only those who tell stories of recovery. And we need to find a way for anyone and everyone to benefit from interactions with nature in the ways that are most accessible and efficacious for them.