Natural Mindfulness

Natural Mindfulness is 'letting Nature in' 

but what does this mean exactly?

  To me, it means look, listen and feel. It's March so we're used to looking out for the first flowers that appear in spring: lesser celandines:

and Coltsfoot

I can't switch off my thinking but I can direct it to the spontaneous events that are happening all around me while walking in nature. Like the emergence of a Comma butterfly from hibernation.

I find listening especially helpful. So I walk slowly, I pause but not in a self-conscious way; I listen for ten seconds and I'm constantly asking myself: 
    "What's special and different today?"
I can't see them but I can hear nuthatches and jackdaws, a buzzard flies overhead. These are the kind of things that make me glad to be alive.
Seasons change imperceptibly but every day reveals more preparations for the season ahead.
Today I heard fieldfares and song thrushes together. These two members of the thrush family overlap but soon the fieldfares will be migrating back to Norway and Sweden to nest.

  So today I heard woodpeckers drumming, a typical sound that belongs to British springtime:

https://vimeo.com/208677486

That greater spotted woodpecker has found a particularly resonant tree which he's using to announce his presence to females and other males.

Look, listen and feel and it's different every day.

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Natural mindfulness, surprise and curiosity.

I've been thinking that natural mindfulness implies surprise and curiosity. 

Curiosity: having a question in mind provides me with a reason to be observant. It always seems to lead me to something that surprises me. 

Here are some examples of questions that I put to myself when I go out walking.

What's different today?

It could be the wind, the sky, the time of day, the angle of the sun, the signs of the approaching season, the mood of the birds or colours that stand out. Then I check to see if any of these change while I'm walking.

What colours can I see?

One question a painter asks is: 'where is the reddest red?' I try to work systematically through the rainbow but today I found the reddest object near the end of the walk. 

I'm sure I wouldn't have noticed this toadstool if I hadn't been looking for colours.

What's the smallest beauty I can find in nature?

In summer it's possible to do a mini safari by lying on the grass and crawling along to see the smallest plants and creatures at work. In winter it's about studying the bark of trees and fallen twigs to look for shapes and colours in the forest of mosses and lichens. 

What patterns can I see in the plants?

Plants need light, nutrients and water so they congregate where these are most suited for growth. I like to see epiphytes, plants that grow on other plants: ivy and clematis on trees, moss and lichen on stone. Trees have differing patterns according to whether they've grown in thick forest: tall and thin and curving up seeking the light or out in the hedgerows: wide and spreading like specimen trees. Even in winter it's possible to recognise trees: ashes have keys, beech saplings hold their leaves all winter.

Do you have questions that you put when you're out walking?

Active alert mindfulness

People often think mindfulness is about going inward

inducing a calm trance by focusing on an image such as a candle flame. That's true but it's not the only path to a mindful state. 

There are methods that have been used for thousands of years that rely on active, alert approaches to achieve mindfulness. The Zen master, Bokuju called out his own name as a way of clearing his mind of unneeded thoughts. Another approach is via direct attention unmediated by language; a condition achieved by training. 

Natural mindfulness has to be active and alert; it uses our instinctive response to the natural world to settle our worries, fears and regrets. For me, it is a combination of curiosity and concentration. Walking through fields and woods raises hundreds of questions like: can I tell what time of day it is? Is the wind still blowing in the same direction? Has something changed since I was last here? 

The calls of birds and rustling among the leaves draw me in to expereince the aliveness of the present moment.   

Jay Dixit offers the best ideas here: savour the present; for me any garden or wild place helps. I take issue with his statement: 'mindful people are happier' because I think mindful people are also sadder. That is, they experience the full range of emotions without dwelling on setbacks indefinitely. 

Natural mindfulness: walking in the open air to clear the mind demands that you stay alert if you're walking through a wood with badger setts and low hanging branches.  But it may be that some people have ways to focus their attention in daily life. 

One method I'm exploring is to begin with a number 5: halfway between 0 [experiencing maximum angst about past mistakes and dread of the future] and 10 [being totally in the present moment] Most of us begin somewhere near 5. We need to plan for the future and learn from the past but not so much that it clouds every moment. 

I'm interested in how people raise the figure to '6'; being more in the present; to notice what is happening now. I begin by imagining how I would feel, what I might hear and see  if I was more in the present. Then I take a deep breath in and as I breathe out, I step into the space where '6' is. 

That's all.

Natural Mindfulness

What is natural mindfulness? 

I like the phrase: 'Letting nature in'. For me, there is always something which the natural world can show us that is immediately valuable in our lives. Our unconscious is able to present that to us through our mind, body or feelings. But we need somehow to practise stepping back from everyday concerns: regrets about the past or anxiety over the future, in order to be open to this message.

How can a guide facilitate natural mindfulness? 

  [my personal view]

• By slowing down. there's no hurry in mindfulness. There is something about moving slowly through the countryside that renews our connection to the natural world. Way back in time, moving through the landscape was vital to our survival. If we spend too long indoors we miss out on this experience.
• By being in a calm, timely state of mind, body and feelings. Mental, physical and emotional pains can seem overwhelming but on a wintry day in the Cotswold countryside you have to pay attention to where you're putting your feet. But it's more than distraction: it is listening for the underlying message.
• By being curious. Curiosity, asking questions takes us to new learning. It's been said: 'Beginner's mind, Zen mind'. 
• So is a guide an expert? No. The most naive questions that a beginner could ask, such as: 'Why is the sky blue?' experts struggle to answer. A guide is not an expert, he or she is a facilitator, encouraging the conditions for natural insights to come for every person on a walk.
• Do I need to study nature in order to benefit? No. Use your favourite way of 'being in the present' going beyond overthinking, customary body sensations and well-worn emotional paths: meditation, centring, relaxation or creative visualisation and [I believe] you will find that you are more than your mind, body and feelings. Some people call this disidentifying
• Does mindfulness take a lot of effort? If you discover that this state of mind is useful, your unconscious will practise it often and enable you to use it when you need it most.
• Is it like a nature walk? It's what you make it. Maybe a wilderness experience is part of it, maybe noticing the particular season, time of day and seeing, hearing or feeling something special to that particular time and place.

Mindful Walks in Winter 2: Seeing a hawk

Sparrow hawks are common in Britain but likely to be overlooked 

because they hunt by silently gliding low over hedgerows looking to flush out small birds. They're not as prominent as kestrels that hover, Kites that hunt together and buzzards that circle and call noisily. So here are some ways to maximise your chances of seeing a sparrow hawk. 

Mindful walking for me is about being observant, listening, seeing and feeling alive. It doesn't matter whether I see the bird I'm looking out for but if I do I feel elated. 
I feel alive.

Walk outside

Walking anywhere is likely to disturb hawks from their observation posts on the roof of a house, the top of a telegraph pole or tall tree. Sparrowhawks can be seen around suburban gardens, taking advantage of the birds that feed at bird tables. In winter trees provide little cover so their look out posts are much more visible.

Listen for mobbing. 

Jackdaws, crows, magpies and rooks have a range of mobbing calls including a charcteristic rattling call to chase off a predator that will alert you to their presence. 

Memorise the Sparrowhawk's call

Listen for the sparrowhawk's call which you sometimes hear in woods, rartely when it's out hunting.

Try to identify every bird flying alone. 

Most will be woodpigeons but if you keep doing it during a two hour walk you're quite likely to recognise a sparrow hawk in the few moments it takes to fly overhead. Jackdaws, rooks and crows usually fly in flocks or in pairs. Predators hunt on their own.

How to make the most of a winter mindful walk

Tricks to seeing and hearing birds in December

Part one woodland birds

In December the woods become transparent because only a few beech trees keep their leaves.That means we can see the woodland birds [and they can see us]. 

In winter weather birds go into survival mode but they still need forage for food which may be in the higher branches or undergrowth. Here are some tricks to use to see the less common woodland birds: spotted woodpeckers, nuthatches, treecreepers and jays.

1. Pause where you can see a gap between two woods. Woodland birds often fly across the gap. You can observe their flight pattern and sometimes hear their calls. Woodpeckers go into freefall by closing their wings in a very charactreristic way. Jays also close their wings so their flight path is a series of u-shaped dives.
   
2. Walk at a steady pace on a path directly through a wood. This is called making a line transect. Birds fly from you and you can hear their alarm calls and see a blur of colour in their wings. Stopping walking often alerts the birds to your presence. 
3. Follow paths on the side of a wooded valley because they are especially good for observing the crowns of the trees without having to strain your eyes and neck.
   
   
   
   
   
4. Familiarise yourself with the typical calls of the birds you'd like to see, for instance here's a Great Spotted Woodpeckerand you'll double the number of birds you can identify.
5. Stand and listen for a minute in the middle of a wood. Sound carries well in winter and you may hear four or five different bird calls.

I'll write again soon about how to observe woodland edge birds.

Researching a novel setting, using maps, editing and keeping going

Prompts that help me edit

I've always been fascinated to see writers' scrapbooks and research notes. Because I'm writing about a remote historical time, research is vital to imagine how people lived

 Maps help me track the route characters need to take to get around the village. I have an outline of the key buildings, the river, the valley and the forest. I can see where the sun will be shining in the morning. 

I'm doing a line edit at the moment but it still helps to remember the context and to remember the feelings I had when I envisaged the landscape.

My book is set in the Neolithic period, or new stone age so I check through the images I have of stone age artefacts which play a big part in the story. 

Cave sculptures like this amazingly life-like creation remind me of the artistic creativity of the people and their relationship to animals. 

Totem animals may have had a spiritual significance, animals played a huge part in people's lives.

This photo reminds me of visits to neolithic sites. This stone circle in County Cork is close to a stone house that still has stone beds and and a stone sink. 

A lot of my research was from illustrated books and archaeological digs. I copied the drawings that might be significant to the story. Whenever I spent time in a library or a museum I always did some free writing about what I had seen that day. I feel this helped me internalise my learning and imagine how people felt when they wore these clothes and lived in these houses.

These are the things that help me keep going.

I have more suggestions on novel editing to come...

Mindfulness, wilderness experiences and getting lost

I 

My first mindful walk as a guide is on Friday 23rd October. When I was out preparing the way today I was wondering: Does a winderness experience help me to reach a mindful state.

Mindfulness: 

paying attention to what I'm seeing hearing and feeling in the present moment.

I have known people who deliberately get lost: they take the narrow path at every fork and are at risk of straying onto privately owned land. I can imagine that it tests their intuition, tracking skills and makes them sensitive to every clue to the route home. Some people might find this frightening and land owners can certainly object. I have lost track of a path as night descends but I've always known roughly where I was.

Exploring mindfulness has led me to pause for thirty seconds in a pine wood, for instance, to listen to the sounds though it might be a few steps off the track. Fortunately I've often seen dog owners doing the same and I don't think a small diversion is a problem for the local land owners.

But the path I was walking today was bordered on both sides as the landowner clearly wanted to keep walkers exactly on the permitted path. I felt penned in and separated from the woodland on either side.  That got me thinking about what a true wilderness experience would be like. 

There would be no signs of human activity and no one to meet on the path and no indication of the correct route. While I was thinking this a helicopter flew low overhead, a farmer was cutting hedges and gun shots were scaring the pheasants.

It's not possible to escape the sounds of human activity. There is a rarely taken path I know which climbs the hillside in the middle of the wood, but I still see feeding stations for the pheasants and cables or drains or irrigation pipes.

It's not necessary to be in a complete wilderness to be surprised by natural beauty; one of those moments you meet when you're out walking. What helps me is to ask a question like where's that sound coming from? Or to check whether I see a particular bird that I saw at this spot last time.

Strangely what is helping me most at present is being orientated. Knowing where the sun is and where the wind is coming from. As I walk my circular route I have a reason to pay attention to what I see, hear and feel; I notice if the wind swings round and lines itself up with the sun. Checking the trees, chimney smoke and the movement of the clouds has made me aware of the ever-changing present moment. 

But everyone's different maybe people have other ways to keep directing their attention back to the present moment when out walking.

Spring watch nightingale song

A male nightingale singing in the evening last week in a wood in southern Gloucestershire, on the Western edge of the nightingale's range. This is typical nightingale country: hazel coppice with water nearby. 

nightingale song

    The bird sang continuously for at least two minutes. Nightingales sing only between mid-May and mid-June, then they go silent.