The Embodied Pathways of Connection

What links mindfulness, psychedelics, nature connection, ritual and the therapeutic technique of Focusing? They can all help us access to our deepest embodied knowing and awaken us from the illusion of separation. For Thich Nhat Hanh, a Buddhist monk and lifelong peace activist, the purpose of our existence is “to awaken from our illusion of separateness.” But how?

Meditation is one path, and John Danvers wrote that mindfulness is a tool for coming to “fully realise that we are relational beings in a relational universe” (Danvers, 2016). John describes an experience where mindfulness allowed his fixed sense of self to dissolve:

“the egocentric, unitary, ‘I’, wasn’t there. Instead a different state of being was at work (or at play) – as if the edges of myself were dissolved into the surrounding space. It felt like there was no separation between me and the world” (2016).

Gail Bradbrook felt an inner stuckness for years. She was passionate about social change, but none of her campaigning efforts had really taken off. So Gail headed off to Costa Rica to experience the healing power of psychedelics – AKA enthogens – including Ayahuasca. She had heard reports of how “people on psychedelics report a deeply felt sense of peace, oneness and unity with the planet” (Bradbrook, 2019). The experience was transformational and on her return home Gail co-founded Extinction Rebellion.

Throughout the ‘60’s and ‘70’s Robert Greenway led groups on multi-day treks into the wilderness. He found that spending several days in wild nature could have a “profound impact on the psyche”. People typically had “feelings of expansion or reconnection” that he identified as spiritual (Greenway, 1995). I’ve written about this wilderness effect elsewhere, but it’s important to note that spending even a brief time in nature can open our awareness of deep connection. Claire Thompson describes her experience of watching a dramatically beautiful sunrise:

“I didn’t realise until afterwards, but my sense of self was absent. I was simply absorbed by the intrinsic wonder of the view and intimately involved in deep contemplation of the pure grace and delicate beauty of nature. I was an integral part of the scene” (2013).

Loch Voil

Ritual is one of the most ancient, powerful and widespread pathways to connection. In Sacred Ecology I wrote that being “part of a powerful ritual” can enable us to “come to the wisdom of the body; that all things are ultimately one”. A lot depends on the intention of the ritual and the integrity of those who facilitate it, but it’s no accident that members of my local Extinction Rebellion group will lead a Summer Solstice Ceremony this evening to support the movement.

I’ve often written about Focusing and Eugene Gendlin, the philosopher and psychotherapist who developed it. In essence, Focusing is a process of sensing into the body, curiously open to what meaningful sensations might be there. Many people have walked this pathway of connection and Herbert Schroeder is a good example. Herbert was working as an environmental psychologist for the US Department of Agriculture when he began experimenting with Focusing in natural spaces. He experienced “an inward, bodily sense of myself expanding out into space, as though the boundary separating myself from my environment had become relaxed and permeable” (2008).

How can practices as diverse as Focusing, ritual, meditation, taking psychedelics and walking in nature have such dramatic – and similar – effects? Gendlin gave us a key part of the answer when he wrote that the “physically felt body is in fact part of a gigantic system of here and other places, now and other times, you and other people – in fact, the whole universe” (1981). Gendlin, like many other thinkers, recognized that we are not the isolated individuals of our cultural myth.

The quotes above all speak of connection, relationship, expansion and the dissolution of boundaries. Although they’ve taken different pathways, they seems to be arriving at the same place; the wisdom of the body that revels what Thich Nhat Hanh calls the “illusion of separateness”. Mindfulness, psychedelics, nature connection, ritual and Focusing are all pathways that lead us to deeper connection. Crucially, they are all part of our embodied experience. These then are embodied pathways of connection (EPOC). There are other EPOC, some of which I’ve already identified; trance, dance, sex and sensual experience. Others are still to be recognized, so if you think there’s an EPOC I’m missing, I’d love to hear from you.

In my next post I’ll explore the role of the EPOC in therapy.

Glen Mazis & David Abram discuss embodied ecology

Last year I was invited to host the ecology thread for the 2018 Embodiment Conference. Who would I recommend to speak on the subject of embodied ecology? Two thinkers immediately came to mind who have been a huge influence on my own work: Glen Mazis & David Abram. This podcast brings them together in a fascinating dialogue. After a brief introduction, I sit back to enjoy a journey through embodied ecology guided by these poetic philosophers. The core theme is, I think, participation. Glen points out that “The world is in your body and you’re feeling what it’s telling you”. David develops that idea with his suggestion that “to be a body is to be entangled, enfolded and infused with so many other bodies, most of which are not human”.

Both of them are fascinated with imagination and language. David points out that “our bodies are imagining the world constantly … Imagination is an act of the sensing body itself, all the time. We are creatively adding to to what is immediately given in the world”. Glen develops this idea when he speaks of how poetry is “a way of using language that tells you, no, you can’t stay just in the web of words, you’ve to go back to your fleshly experience”.

Glen and David explore many of the topics I’ve touched on in this blog – Merleau-Ponty, deep ecology, embodied knowing – and then follow the path into sensuality, language, climate change and eco-trauma. David beautifully expresses the pain: “To taste the world with our creaturely senses all open and awake is to feel a world that it is filled with wounds”. Glen identifies the danger here: “There’s the cycle of hurt and violation … that takes you further away from the resources you need”. But this source of pain is also the root of healing. For David “that edge of grief and pain is just a threshold, and if we step thorough that threshold without flinching from it we come into a world of wonders”.

We all agree that nature connection, opening “to the more-than-human world is the path to healing”. This is a very familiar route for some of us, but as Glen points out, it can be a rough walk and many people will need support along the way. However, he adds, “As soon as they open themselves, it’ll be self-affirming because the world is a nourishing place”.

Related resources:

Sitting at the threshold brook

I’ve realised that what Barry Patterson calls “listening to the threshold brook” is the Sit Spot by another name. I’ve already outlined the principles of the Sit Spot: Find a place outdoors and sit there everyday for at least 15 minutes.

Sit Spot practice is both simple and profound. It lay at the heart of the mentoring Jon Young received from Tom Brown Jr. and is the primary Core Routine of the Art of Mentoring (Young, Hass and McGown, 2010). It’s no surprise, then, that many Eco-Pagans have the same practice, but that realisation took me a while!

My Ph.D. research identified listening to the threshold brook as one of a number of ways that Eco-Pagans connect to the animate world of nature. I concluded that it works – in part at least- by shifting awareness down the cognitive iceberg and thus enhancing our sense of connection. If I’m right, then the Sit Spot works the same way. The next question is, can the cognitive iceberg model help us understand how other Core Routines work their magic?

The threshold brook

My Ph.D. research into embodied knowing found that Eco-Pagans living in urban environments often had a powerful spiritual connection to a specific place. Barry Patterson, one of my research participants, described this connection as listening to the “threshold brook” (Harris, 2008).

The phrase “threshold brook” stands for any of the innumerable natural  miracles our fast fleeting lives ignore. It’s from John Keats’ poem in The Human Seasons: “Fair things pass by, unheeded as a threshold brook”.

But what if we did pay heed?

The threshold brook is there. Now how about I actually spend some time with it?  And how about one day, after maybe months or weeks or however long it takes, maybe one day no matter how cynical or jaded or sceptical or clever, or over analytical I was, that one day this special brook actually did speak to me. And told me what I needed to hear. And then I got up from sitting by the threshold brook and walked back into my world a different person” (Barry Patterson).

Listening to the threshold brook provides a “deepening sense of place” (Patterson, n.d.) for Eco-Pagans, who often listen to its voice using the felt sense described by Gendlin (1981). As Barry explained, when the threshold brook speaks, the hearer’s world changes forever because it reveals our “sacred relationship with the world” (Zoe, research participant): Thus one place can pattern a sacred relationship to the world.

Framing perception

As a friend and I stood gazing at a Renoir, I felt its beauty gently suffuse my body. My friend turned to me and I smiled, expecting to share the moment. “Wow!” He said. “How much do you reckon that’s worth?’

Seeing the wood or the trees

When you look at this photograph do you see a rainforest ecosystem or thousands of dollars worth of timber? It’s all a matter of perspective; the logger who makes his living from cutting down Tasmania’s rainforest sees wood, while I see trees.

Let’s frame it differently: Let’s drain out the colour and simplify the representation to show this area in terms of logging rights.

Pulpwood concession areas, 1985

It’s pretty hard to see a rainforest ecosystem now.

My photograph and the map are cultural representations of place, but is either more ‘true’? The photograph is an aesthetic attempt to record a sensual, embodied experience of place, whereas the map is a simple representation of data, so surely it’s more rational and objective? No; evidence from cognitive science – and elsewhere – suggests that reason cannot function without emotion and the ‘objective’ world simply doesn’t exist. As the enactivist Varela explains, “knower and known, mind and world, stand in relation to each other through mutual specification or dependent coorigination” (Varela et al., 1991).

We create our world in the very process of perception.

Nature connection: Core routines

The sit spot is one of 13 core routines described in Coyote’s Guide to Connecting with Nature. They are:

  • Sit spot
  • Story of the day
  • Expanding sensory awareness
  • Questioning and tracking
  • Animal forms
  • Wandering
  • Mapping
  • Exploring field guides
  • Journalling
  • Survival living
  • Minds eye imagining
  • Listening for bird language
  • Thanksgiving

Regularly practising just some of these powerful techniques will deepen your connection with nature.

Some of them look familiar: Thanksgiving, for example, is part of every spiritual path and you probably have memories of wandering or telling the story of the day if only from childhood. A few may strike you as odd: What would it mean to practice animal forms or survival living? Your tribal ancestors would be able to tell you.

The Core routines were developed by the Wilderness Awareness School under the guidance of Jon Young. Jon draws his inspiration from his childhood mentoring by tracker Tom Brown Jr., who was in turn taught by Stalking Wolf, an Apache elder.

Although Native American teaching forms the foundation of Jon’s work, he draws from ancient and modern nature connection strategies from around the world: Jon is as likely to tell a story about about the Kalahari Bushman as he is to reference ecopsychology.

I’ve trained with Jon and use the Core routines – and much more – in my nature connection workshops.

The sit spot

The principle of the sit spot could hardly be simpler: Find a place outdoors and sit there everyday for at least 15 minutes. Although it’s generally traced to Native American teachers, this ancient practise is cross-cultural. What modern Pagans call ‘sitting out’ has a more explicitly spiritual purpose, but is essentially the same thing.

A overgrown wooden bench. Copyright Adrian Harris.

Spending time in your sit spot is a meditation that fine-tunes your sensory awareness. Gradually, patterns in nature become apparent and in time you fall into a ”deepening sense of place” (Patterson). Such subtle embodied communion with one chosen place can pattern a sacred relationship to the world.

Ecosomatics: An Embodied Ecology

Most people accept that our behaviour is destroying vital ecosystems, yet there’s very little being done about it. Why? There are several factors, but a key part of the problem is that we’re in denial. I find it pretty hard to be with the fact that we’re responsible for the sixth mass extinction. How about you?

My opening paragraph might have made you feel less centred and at least a little more fearful. But being in a state of fear tends to make us less caring,  less open and inevitably less environmentally aware. Reminding you about environmental destruction has – perversely – made you less able to respond to it. But what if I were to give you some simple tools to stay centred and calm while we talk about climate change and mass extinction? What if you could respond to this massive challenge from a place of grounded openness and calm?

I’ve written about Paul Linden’s work on embodied peace building in this blog before; he teaches techniques that enable us to embody peace and calm. About a year ago Paul suggested to me that my work with being embodied in nature and his work on embodied peace are powerfully complimentary. He proposed that we synthesise the two into an embodied ecology; ecosomatics. In this video by Steve Savides, Paul explains our work together.



Originally posted on Facebook by Steve Savides – exploring intention on Monday, August 8, 2016

Where is wilderness?

I’m currently featured as a ‘wilderness thinker’ for a project on ‘Thinking Wilderness’. I took a sideways look at the question of what ‘wilderness’ means and came up with more questions than answers. I explore the question ‘Where is wilderness?’ Readers of this blog won’t be surprised at the direction my journey took. From a bodymind place perspective, wilderness is not simply somewhere ‘out there’ because simple notions of ‘inner’ and ‘outer’ no longer make sense. Read the full post on the Thinking Wilderness Project site.

Imbolc: The Pulse of the Seasons

February 2nd is the Pagan festival of Imbolc, and to celebrate I went for a long walk in the countryside. Imbolc is the time of ‘the quickening of the year’ when the first signs of the coming Spring appear, & many Pagans honour Brigid, the great Celtic Mother Goddess. Some Pagans are quite particular about the date that they celebrate the festivals, but many, including me, go with the day that feels right. It was UK Shaman Gordon MacLellan that really got me thinking about this. Rather than following the traditional dates of the Pagan Wheel of the Year, Gordon senses the “changing pulse” of the seasons (Harris, 2008). Gordon seems to be using a “bodily sensed knowledge” which Gendlin calls a “felt sense” (Gendlin, 1981) and it’s that same felt sense of change that guides me to the time to celebrate.

I’ve done this same walk at various times of the year, but this particular Imbolc there was something in the woods and fields that felt particularly powerful. I was walking across a barren muddy field patterned with the stubble of dead stalks. A cold wind was blowing and the Sun sat low in the sky.

Trees at dawn

Suddenly I felt a tingling as a wave of energy flowed up my body from the land. As I looked at the dark earth, I had a mental image of the virile stems of the growing crop I’d seen in that very spot last Summer. In fact it was much more than an mental image; it was a powerful felt sense of the fecundity of the land. The fullness of the ripe crop in Summer and the dark quietude of the sleeping land in Winter were simultaneously present the quickening of Imbolc : it was if I could sense the whole cycle of the seasons in one moment.