Inner-Wilderness.com

NPR’s Living On Earth segment ran a story this week about silence in nature. Though this story could be interpreted as decrying human noise pollution, another listen could help us focus on being mindful of our ears.

Acoustic ecologist Gordon Hempton in the NPR piece reminds us that “all the higher invertebrates have the ability to hear, but not all of them have the ability to see.” He stresses that hearing, and even more importantly listening, is critical to all vertebrates— and that includes us. We have eyelids but no earlids, again indicating biology’s strong emphasis that we need to listen.

But smart, large-brained mammals like us have compensated for a lack of earlids by tuning out and turning off our senses. The sounds of the natural environment around us can be drowned out by the mental chatter we tolerate inside of our heads. I know this from experience. I work diligently at nature awareness, and yet I am astounded at how I can walk out to my barn— head full of ideas—and nearly totally miss the scolding catbird, the croaking bullfrog, and the rhythmic cicadas.

This week I was out with a local group at the Middle River at nightfall. The group stood in a circle that tightened up as it grew darker and darker. We listened to the silence and punctuated it with stories, laughter and jokes. Followed by more silent periods of listening to ourselves, to each other, to the land and its critters. It was as if the group was floating down the stream of natural engagement with the culture amongst us and the wilds around us—the total ecosystem. Laughter was our gift to the whole tableau. It didn’t feel totally human-centric, nor did we seem like intrusive noise-polluters violating a sacred silence.

I’m sure the experience spoke differently to each person present, as is always the case. We may hear the same sounds, but the same acoustic waves filter through our bones, brains and hearts so that listen creates a different message for each of us. Which creates diversity— that old commodity that allows nature in and around us to thrive.

Mindfulness of self and nature: sensory-based, non-judging, in the present moment–the total opposite to tuning out.

Reference: National Public Radio”s Living On Earth, August 21, 2009. Author Gordon Hempton’s new book: One Square Inch of Silence; One Man’s Search for Natural Silence in a Noisy World.

Workshop participants recently set out to practice a silent movement technique called fox-walking. The goal: to move silently and stealthily through the environment so as to not be readily heard or seen by the wild neighbors. Fox-walking is a stalking skill passed down from indigenous peoples worldwide, and perfected here in North America by some of the most skilled, the Apaches.

Fox-walking slows one down and frees one to keep one’s eyes looking ahead and around rather than looking at the ground. It minimizes bobbing body motions, helps make ones’ movement smooth and steady. You to feel like you are blending in with the natural environment—because you are!

In this day’s practice at the Belle Grae Inn, participants came back reporting that the pet dog of the inn was observing the practice and started a low growl at people sneaking around the grounds. A clear validation that participants were able to change their relationship to the environment! Feedback we get from other-than-humans is some of the most reliable and gratifying and tells us that we can create new relationships to the wilderness—even in downtown Staunton!

But, the question was raised, if fox-walking sets off alarms in animals, how does that help us? It’s great question which led to a discussion about how the domestic dogs may perceive change in human behavior and how that may or may not relate to wild animal responses. Also it allowed us to introduce the concept that nature has a baseline “language” that can be sensed by animals (and humans) which tells everyone that “all is well.” Often human behavior in the woods inadvertently sends messages of alarm out into the environment which is then picked up well in advance of our arrival by the birds and the other critters, giving them time to flee or hide before we even get near them. On this day, stalking behavior triggered an alarm response in the dog—who read fox-walking as a departure from baseline.

So while we learned that silent movement is one aspect of blending into the environment, the dogs taught us that we need to  learn skills for how to avoid alarming the birds and other critters. We left wanting to learn how our human presence can maintain the baseline of calm in the woods that animals need to feel safe and not flee from us.