Getting in touch with nature, in an air-conditioned office

I spend a lot of my time indoors. From the always-too-early hour I emerge from my bedroom, looking like one of those “hungover owl” memes, to the moment I return at night, I dash from one air-conditioned box to the next, hardly pausing to notice whether the day is sunny or cloudy, windy or still.

But as a lifelong Midwesterner, I can always find something to complain about. “It’s so humid that pants should be optional,” I’ll say, before rushing into a coffee shop that’s so cold that my toes go numb within minutes.

I’ve been living this way for so long that I’ve scarcely stopped to consider whether my lack of interaction with nature might actually be contributing to my stress and anxiety, which at times could be described as “epic” in a totally non-hyperbolic way. On average, I’ll spend 10 minutes watering the garden each morning, but otherwise I’m likely staring at a glowing screen, surrounded by four walls, unwinding not by taking a walk but by Googling something absurd, like “comfortable high heels” or, uh, “hungover owls.” (Search that right now!)

Last week, I had the flickering of an epiphany regarding my potentially unhealthy relationship with technology — and, by extension, my almost nonexistent connection with nature. After reading that the average American spends 93 percent of her life indoors, I took a National Geographic quiz to test my “nature engagement levels,” which sounds like a made-up thing, but what do I know? I haven’t taken a walk in a park in a year.

I answered questions about how I get to work (drive), what happens if I go 20 minutes without looking at my phone (nervous sweat) and what I see outside the nearest window (parking lot). The results were in: My brain needed a break.

My next stop was the Bring the Parks to You Tour, a partnership between Humana and the National Park Service that uses virtual reality to provide surprisingly legit encounters with Joshua Tree National Park and Yosemite National Park. The tour is traveling to 20 cities this summer. I arrived at Humana’s North Kansas City Guidance Center in the middle of another steamy summer afternoon. Cursing the denim fabric that clung to my thighs, I entered the small lobby to find a backdrop depicting a picturesque mountain landscape covering one wall.

“I’m looking for the park situation,” I announced to no one in particular.

“You’ve found it,” an employee said, gesturing toward a woman sitting in a wooden chair near the entrance, wearing large, white virtual-reality glasses that looked like something out of our collective imagination of the year 2000, circa 1989. She slowly turned her head from left to right.

“Don’t forget to look down,” said another employee who was sitting next to her.

The woman tilted her head toward her lap and laughed.

Well, I thought, whatever is happening in there must be good. When she finished, it was my turn to slip on the headset.

“You’ll love it,” the woman told me before exiting, exchanging the virtual world for a very real suburban parking lot.

Wearing the glasses and a pair of headphones, I was suddenly immersed in 360-degree vignettes depicting stunning vistas of the natural world — and, occasionally, attractive people exercising. Waterfalls spilled over rocky cliffs. Hikers shuffled toward snowy peaks, ice crunching under their snowshoes. The sun set behind a twisted row of Joshua trees, a round, orange tent glowing like a lantern in the foreground.

In one particularly memorable instance, I looked down to see a rock climber driving his pickaxe right between my legs — and I realized what had made the previous woman laugh.

I swiveled in my chair and leaned back as far as I could, taking in the sequoias, the rock formations and the vast starry sky. Filmed with a sphere of GoPros, the stunning, seamless visuals still couldn’t stifle the irony that I had traveled to an air-conditioned office building to get back in touch with nature. I didn’t need bug spray or sunscreen. I didn’t even need sensible shoes.

But when I left, I did have a renewed desire to see those freaky-ass Joshua trees in person. Camping under a dreamy canopy of stars sounded kind of nice, too. I jotted “Google Joshua trees” on my to-do list. Then I cranked the A/C and headed back to the office.

Joshua Tree National Park and Yosemite National Park 360-degree videos are available via Humana’s YouTube page. The nature engagement levels quiz is available through National Geographic.