My awakening began with two simple experiences. The first came through touching wet granite.

I am a writer by trade. Add to this occupation the average person’s basic online consumption, and the result is, I find myself in front of screens for long periods of my day. While finishing a recent book project, I kept wandering outside, simply to touch real things—stone, pinecones, the juniper bush. This wasn’t a cognitive decision; it was a compelling, something I felt I had to do in order to come out from a weird ether-space, come back to myself. Laying my hand on a wet boulder, feeling the cold, examining the granite crystals, I realized, I need reality.

The second, far more startling, moment came when I stepped into a small...