There are many practices that can stimulate our reconnection to the instinctual self. Anything that involves us with the natural world- like digging in the dirt, walking in the woods, learning ancestral skills, eating food we've foraged or grown, and hanging out with the undomesticated animals- can mirror for us how to get back to our own animal bodies.
~ Belonging by Toko-pa Turner

Wild Face

When we first moved to the land, I spent countless hours down by "the caves", a set of holes in a large stone outcropping directly above the creek.

Lured by the melodic and calming sound of rushing water and the ever-present animal trails, I would sit, walk with head bent toward the earth, peer into my surroundings to discover.

Winter hit and my experience exponentially grew. The presence of snow gave me a context for the animals that were creating the trail. I followed their tracks to their dens, to the waterfront, up trees, to surprising places. I've sat for hours and never seen any of these animals in person, but that's not (totally) what it's about.

Observation

When I was in college, I had a friend who taught me many of these skills. By many they're grouped under the heading rewilding.

Living in a large college town, we would drive to the north side, park at a golf course and walk past the green into the real green, the large forest stands that still existed within the town. This shows that you can basically practice this anywhere.

We would sit, maybe eat some cheese, nuts, or dried fruit and be quiet. He had chosen a spot atop a hill overlooking a valley. Often we would be surrounded by trees, sheltered from sight. The first step was to just sit and be as quiet and still as possible.

An interesting thing happened then. When we first entered the forest, all of the wildlife, birds mostly and squirrels, would sound alarm. The ruckus is noticeable if you listen for it. All of the birds would send their alert cries, loud raucous alarms waking the forest up. Squirrels would bark and chirp loudly. We'd sit down and after 20-30 minutes this sound would dissipate, until not only were the alarms not going off, but the birds and squirrels and other creatures resumed their activity.

Witness

At this point, the forest started to open up to us. The longer we sat, the more seemingly alive it became. We witnessed animals resuming their normal behaviors. Birds' chirps took on different sounds. They flew, not in alarm, but as a part of their daily activities. A skunk or possum would wobble by or the squirrels would scamper in front of us without so much as giving us a thought.

It was in those sessions that I understood my Wild Face. The face that one takes on when they're alone and quiet in the forest. So often we have "faces" for other humans, for walking down the street, for greeting others, etc. In the wild, when not focused on ourselves or our importance, we are given the opportunity to drop all of these faces and be present.

Jaw with teeth found in front of a cave opening

Presence

This experience is not really about ourselves at all, and this is why I love it so much.

In fact, It's very easy to forget yourself while practicing this. I see this as a good thing, especially for a species that is so self-centered to be verging on the worst type of narcissism, the type that threatens to destroy everything that is not it. We're naturally human focused when in cities, in the classroom, around our families, etc. Extending my presence, observation and witness to myself as a part of a larger picture is not only humbling in the best way, but it places me in the true order of things, wherein I am just one of many species here on the earth.

It no longer matters which species is best, but that we're all here, living our lives with varying intelligences, skills and habitats. I begin to value and notice more of these species. And I find this has an interesting effect.

Redbuds

Gratitude

Tracking and observing the animals and their habitats on the western edge of my land, by the rivers and near the caves has given me the perspective that:

All of these creatures are always living their lives. We can think about them as a backdrop to human life, but truly we're sharing the space with them. Barring our total destruction of their habitats or killing them all off, they'll be here with us, as they always have been. When I open my mind to include them in my life, I realize that our lives are parallel, connected even and intertwined.

I feel gratitude and awe that these creatures live their lives "on my land" or on the land that I caretake. Many of these creatures have lived here (their species generations long) way longer than I have. Hence, it's not truly my land, but I've stepped here too into their world.

Wilderness Habit

These skills and patterns of observation make me a better human.

They allow me drop my face and have my natural Wild Face. They take me out of my insulated life and give me a glimpse into the larger life of the forest and the animals living all around me, around each of us in fact. As I am in the habit of being around them each season, I learn more about them. Spring turns into Summer, Fall into Winter and they, like us, collect the abundance of summer for the winter months. In spring, some animals even partake in the use of herbs, like bears, in order to clean out their digestion and boost immunity. Squirrels store nuts like we do. The list goes on.

All of this allows me to feel more like myself and get in touch with my instinctual self. It feels like home to me in a way I've always longed for. In a world with so many domesticated species, and when so many humans are severely domesticated and under the spell of anthropomorphism, spending time in the wilds of nature (whether a thousand acre wilderness area or 3 acre plot behind tucked on the edge of a city) increasingly becomes a necessity. I will leave you with a poem.

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

Mary Oliver, Wild Geese

Each of these photos was taken today while wearing my Wild Face.

This post was written by a passenger on the #ecotrain. Check the tag often for more enlightening and thought-provoking posts about living gently on the earth, among other things.