As stealthily as my size 13 hiking boots allow, I creep along the dry underbrush of Northern Colorado’s Bobcat Ridge. I’m following a high-pitched bird sound, a squeak reminiscent of a common tern. But a tern wouldn’t likely live this far inland. So my curiosity intensifies. The sound grows louder as I approach one specific tree. I scan the Lodgepole Pine until I spot the bird, a yellow warbler, sitting lazily atop a high outer branch. Point, shoot, bull’s-eye! It didn’t move and I snapped just the photo I was looking for.
In today’s world, the slow dance of cumulus clouds or the occasional flight of a bird have a hard time maintaining their entertainment value. The simplicity of nature is precisely what makes it ideally suited to practicing mindfulness. Nature’s beauty is usually subtle. The simple experience of walking through a city park is a great opportunity to practice mindfulness. A television’s worth of sensory stimuli exists in every little park if one is only opens to the possibility. Sights, smells and sounds are ever present, yet often go unnoticed. Looking to better appreciate nature and practice mindfulness at the same time, I’ve been learning the experiential naturalist techniques of the Wilderness Awareness School, a practice based on aboriginal culture—a culture close to nature and rooted in what is real.
I’ve walked this trail dozens of times before. On the surface, nothing about it is new, but in actuality everything is. New sounds emerge with every bird that flies within earshot. Every plant I pass has its own unique smell. I could be sensorially tuned into all the beauty that enfolds me, yet I waste this opportunity by tuning out to my thoughts or letting my dominant sense of sight take over the experience. I offer myself a smile of understanding and acceptance, knowing my mind is just doing what it’s been trained to do after the overstimulation of big city living. So I continue my walk and enjoy looking at the bright, red rocks that encase the valley’s upper ridges like puzzle pieces. Another thought enters my consciousness. I stop my hike to bring myself back to center. Closing my eyes to shut off my dominant sense, I tune into the natural wonders surrounding me. The scent of sage tickles my nostrils, so sweet I can almost taste it. I feel a light, dry breeze ripple across the hairs on my body. My attention turns to the many sounds surrounding me. Grasshoppers and crickets chirp away. Just then, three bird sounds catch my attention—a distant one to the southeast, one much closer to the west and one directly east in a nearby stand of Lodgepole Pines. I then integrate my senses, intensely focusing on all of them at the same time. In doing so I’m acting with the perspective of the wolf—a dominant hunter that the Wilderness Awareness School deems as a model for nature awareness because of its heightened sensory ability. It was this interruption in my hike and the resulting awareness that brought me to the warbler, a sight I would never have experienced had I passively hiked the trail.
Awareness needn’t come all or none. Some meditation techniques train mindfulness as a percentage of full awareness. Even when doing sitting meditation, the idea is that focus is split 50% on the breath and 50% on feeling one’s body. With the variety of subtle stimuli in nature, this approach is especially helpful. Why focus just on seeing a landscape when you can also hear, smell, feel and taste it? Bird watching requires that you pay attention to the senses in order to track the birds, and pay attention to your body and its movements so as to not scare them off.
I sit down at the top of a valley behind Bobcat Ridge. There’s nothing spectacular about this valley. It’s far less visually pleasing than the larger valley beside it. Yet, something compels me to this place. Gaining a new appreciation for this spot, I slide onto a nice slab of sandstone, its comfortable face slightly angled to fit my reclined back. As I continue to sit in this plain little valley, I begin to notice an abundance of life emerging from its depths. A population of birds much higher than what I normally see dart from tree to tree. Their diverse sounds fill my ears from all directions, blending into a beautiful symphony of bird song. The sun peeks out from behind its cloud cover, a rare occasion on this overcast day. The sunlight catches the sandstone’s sharp edges, revealing the jagged beauty that the Rockies are known for. After awhile I hear the low-pitched honk of a mule deer straight ahead on the back side of the valley. As the sound comes closer to the top of the valley I think how pleasing it would be if the four-legged herbivore browsed to the top of the valley directly across from me. After coming quite close, the sound eventually fades from earshot. I sit around awhile longer, hearing the once plentiful bird song be replaced by the monotonous chirp of crickets.
As the sun dips below the ridge, the valley descends into dusk. Long shadows cast themselves eastwards, revealing the nuances of the valley’s vegetation. I want to remember my time in the valley for the wonder that comes out of the ordinary; for the fullness of sensory pleasure that nature always presents. The compulsion that led me to do a hike I’d done numerous times before was the same compulsion that led me to sit in this nondescript valley. Rather than continually seeking out new sources of visual stimulation, I’ve instead received a sensual blessing that came out of awareness and patience. I’m grateful for this form of “entertainment.” Though it makes me work harder than man-made entertainment, it is all the more appreciated. In being present, the nuances of nature unveil themselves. As explicit as moving pictures and sound are on a TV screen, the motion picture of nature is vivid and awe-inspiring. This adventure of infinite possibility is never scripted. The best thing about it is that it’s free and always available—all we have to do is tune in.
SENSE LIKE AN ANIMAL
Posture and gait: Pay attention to how you sit and stand. How do you hold your body? Do you keep your weight shifted more on one side than another? Do you keep your back straight or hunched? Are your steps straight or at an angle? Do your feet drag or is your pace even?
Owl’s eyes: Owl’s eyes are so big they’re stuck in their sockets, allowing them only to look straight ahead. For that reason they have well-developed peripheral visions. Also known as wide-angle vision, this practice opens up the entire visual field. When looking at a bird in the sky, try relaxing your eyes to open to what else exists. Think of the spiritual implication of discernment that comes from a greater sense of perspective. There’s always more going on than what is most evident. Make sure you’re at least 10’ from anything in front of you. Close your eyes and visualize yourself as an owl. Now open your eyes. Focus your eyes on something in the distance in front of you. Hold your arm out in front and wiggle your fingers. As you notice your wiggling fingers, slowly move your hands farther apart. Without changing the focus of your eyes, notice how far you can spread your arms while still seeing your wiggling fingers. Now try it again, moving your arms up and down.
Ears of a deer: Deer have incredible hearing. Relax into your hearing as a deer would. Take in the whole field of sound. Now listen to the left, right, front, behind, above and below. Let your ears wander until you pick up a sound you’d like to focus on. Once you’ve picked one out, focus on it, noticing how the sound becomes louder and sharper.
Nose of a bear: Pretend you have a bear’s keen sense of smell. Close your eyes and swing your head side to side, up and down. Pick out a smell and focus on its every nuance.
Skin of a baby: Scan your body head to toe. Feel your place in space by tuning into each body part, where it is and how it moves. Now feel the moisture in the air, the temperature, the wind.
Taste for nature: The sense of taste is closely linked to that of smell. Professional tasters recommend inhaling a lot while tasting food or drinks. Open your mouth, inhaling the aromas that you closely connected to with bear’s nose, now trying to taste what is in the air.
The senses of a wolf: Wolves’ senses are equally important and powerful. Pretend you have the superior integrated sensory ability of a wolf. Now slowly move with all your senses engaged, noticing all that is in your environment.
Adapted from the Wilderness Awareness School’s text Exploring Natural Mystery.
