This is a famous quote of Thoreau, who lived in a cabin on a pond in New England for a year, sometimes visiting town to have dinner at his mother's house, and was accorded honor and reputation for writing a book about it. Recently a friend sent me a short article by a psychotherapist, George Sciple, about the importance of being in nature. It stimulated me to think about my own experiences and what they mean.
He begins with: “Many times in wilderness I have found myself in touch with processes through which I am actualized, I am filled with joy and peace and fullness.” The essay is a meditation on the impact of his experiences in the natural world. Throughout my life, I have also sought experiences in the natural world and wanted to compare with him. Sciple emphasizes wilderness as not the world of persons, but for me it is nature less modified by humans. Much wilderness in the US was already occupied by native people in ways that did not entirely disrupt the natural patterns. Sciple calls this neutrality, the natural world does not engage him. He is being present without the need to attend to the expectations of others, but this is balanced by the need to attend to the risks and dangers of nature. Sciple wonders why he doesn't persist in being in the natural world, his commitment to civilized society, and the fear of risk is important. Primitive cultures engage with the benefits and risks of the world around them, addressing the fears. For him, the enormity of the natural world creates this neutrality, illustrated by a story of encountering a thunderstorm without protection, and experiencing its power. Nature produces intense sensory experiences, and people are often unprepared when they live sequestered from it. (People might prepare for the enormity and not be surprised or overwhelmed, as in “natural disasters”.) His second principle is dealing without meta, i.e. abstraction, and he contrasts his use of abstraction when dealing with the unexpected intimacy of a friend with attending to the danger of dealing with a coiled snake. Nature encourages relying on primary sensory communication. His third principle is ecotone, the boundary between eco-zones which humans often disregard, creating environments that block out nature. This is closely related to the fourth principle congruence, alignment with nature, whatever that means, which “increases the experience of self”. Or maybe this isn’t congruence, but awe, and spiritual awareness. This short essay, written in 1988, anticipates our confused and changing interest in nature. Item: more and more automobile ads show FWD vehicles, jeeps and trucks, crashing over natural roads to distant places. Item: national parks are now often surrounded by gated expensive subdivisions to allow certain people to have a home near the “natural beauty”. Jackson Hole and Bozeman are now areas of intense development. Item: the attendance at national parks is so intense that vehicle traffic and parking must be restricted by reserved admission.
It is useful to distinguish between people who live in the natural world, and people who come to visit the natural world from the “developed world”. His essay, and my experiences, are about people who periodically “escape” the developed world seeking an experience in the natural one. We often bring food, protection, and other devices to guide and “enhance” our experience of nature, and we observe the dramatic differences, the recognition of ecotone, as he described. People who live in regions with limited development must cope with the environmental dangers— weather, animals, water, and food, etc. These are about daily survival, not special opportunities for awe and personal development.
Is it possible to blend the two worlds? Can humans live protected lives that do not completely block nature? Historically, the very wealthy isolated property from the use of others as “hunting preserves” or other preservation of natural resources. This was also done with redwood preserves. Parks, forests, and garden areas now provide managed and designed interactions with plants, and sometimes animals as well. But the boundary between these “natural regions” and the rest of the environment must be managed, and their desirability attracts the increase of human populations. Plans like “30 percent protected in 30 years” seem to address the idea of protecting regions, but the problem with these plans is that no one tells the plants, the animals, or the weather. People build small cattle ranches and are ravaged by wolves finding a new food source. They plant food crops which are invaded by “weeds” and insects that use the fertilizer and water unless poisons are used. Tornadoes, hurricanes, earthquakes and floods do not avoid designated human habitats.
Creating a balance between nature and human development cannot be done by specifying rigid boundaries. The only solution is an ecologic balance of human and other life into an integrated ecosystem in which selected parts do not destroy the others. This is a disappointing answer. Do humans need to give up developments in food, communication, housing, etc. in order to live ecologically? I do not think we must give up all, but it will be necessary to revise and design the human footprint to accomodate. Is this possible? Is it possible politically? Anybody got a crystal ball?
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