Taiwanese Energy – When an Island Literally Feels Alive
Updated: Sep 15
What can Taiwan’s powerful natural environment teach us about the nervous system, awareness, and our connection with nature? From dramatic monsoon rains and lush mountains to frequent earthquakes and tropical wildlife, nature in Taiwan is constantly alive and in motion. Through personal experience and a psychological perspective, this article explores how our environment affects the nervous system, why spending time in nature can heighten awareness, and how reconnecting with the natural world may influence our energy, perception, and well-being.
1. When Nature Wakes You Up
A few nights ago, we woke up to an unbelievably loud noise. One of us thought a large airplane had landed right next to us. I, on the other hand, was convinced the air conditioner had somehow switched itself to maximum power — and with half-closed eyes, I kept trying to turn it off so the noise would stop.
It took a few minutes before we all ended up in the living room, confused, and finally realized: it wasn’t a plane — and it wasn’t the AC either. The monsoon had arrived. Thousands of heavy raindrops hit the roof at the exact same time, and that was the sound that woke us.
We’ve experienced intense summer rainstorms before, but nothing like this — and definitely not in December.
That’s what life is like here, on the island of Taiwan: from calm to full force in a matter of seconds. Especially at night, when you can’t see — you can only hear. The wind here is a real power. And the rain doesn’t drizzle — it falls like a curtain.
2. A Giant Broccoli. A Giant Rock. At the Same Time.
There are two things I often say about Taiwan. The first is that it’s like a giant broccoli: everything is green and lush, and everything grows to enormous sizes — kohlrabi the size of a human head is completely normal here. The second is that because it has more than 300 mountain peaks over 3,000 meters high, Taiwan is also one massive rock.
A giant broccoli. A giant rock. At the same time.
Constant, obvious change is woven into everyday life here. Nature isn’t a static backdrop — it’s an active presence. The clouds move across the sky at what feels like running speed: one moment we’re surrounded by fog and rain, and the next the sun is shining brightly. When you look up, everything is always in motion — and when you look down, the ground is in motion too.
This island sits on a tectonic plate. One or two earthquakes a day are part of normal life. Movement isn’t the exception — it’s the baseline.
Every time I arrive here after a long journey, I feel the same thing: in an environment like this, the concept of “Living Gaia” truly makes sense. You can’t doubt its reality. Everything is powerful and fully present. Everything pulses, breathes, and grows.
3. What Does This Teach Us, as Europeans?
In such a vibrant environment, animals are simply part of everyday life: frogs croaking at sunset, pelicans on the balcony, monkeys on the neighboring hillside — and then the bananas they steal while you’re showering — and cockroaches darting around late at night. There is so much life everywhere that you can barely keep up with noticing it all.
After a while, I started noticing something surprisingly ordinary: I need less coffee here. Not because I’m slower — but because I’m more awake. The environment itself is stimulating. When a place is this alive, you don’t need to artificially push yourself to stay energized. Your body receives enough input on its own.
A place that’s intensely alive teaches you how to sense. When we return to a quieter environment — one that moves less visibly — it can feel empty at first. But if someone experiences this back-and-forth often enough, between intense and calmer spaces, their perception gradually becomes more refined.
And these experiences don’t disappear when you go home. They slowly retune you, so you can sense the quieter spaces too.
As a psychologist, Taiwanese energy always reminds me that the nervous system doesn’t learn only from the inside — it also learns through the environment.
And if you live between two worlds as well — between city and nature, rationality and instinct, silence and intensity — look for connection with your surroundings.
Book a 1:1 clarity session in Budapest or online, and join me for a private consultation. Let’s explore together how you can get your energy moving again and reconnect with your environment.
Antonia Bai is an interpersonal and intercultural psychologist who spent 10 years living in Asia and has been based in Hungary, Europe, for over a decade. In her work, she integrates Western psychology with Eastern perspectives and the wisdom of Indigenous cultures.
She primarily works with people navigating life transitions, relationship challenges, and times of crisis. The aim of her holistic approach is simple: to find clarity, even when everything feels complicated.
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This article is for informational purposes only and does not constitute professional medical or psychological diagnosis or advice. If you experience any physical or mental health concerns, please seek support from a qualified professional. © 2025 Antonia Bai Psychology. All texts and materials are the intellectual property of Antonia Bai. Copying, republishing, or using any part of these writings, images, or excerpts in any form is only permitted with the prior authorisation of the author.
