...
...
...
...
...
Online Nature-Connecting Holistic Psychology Health and Wellness College Faculty Careers and University Greens Job Opportunities: Alternative Natural Career Education Professor Job Openings, Environmental Training Grants, Spiritual Power Psychology Scholarships.
Project NatureConnect
Institute of Global Education
Special
NGO Consultant, United Nations Economic and Social Council
University Health and Wellness Go Green Earth Process Jobs
Outdoor Sensory and Spirit Therapies, Degrees and Career Grants
| SYNOPSIS: This whole-life academic dissertation and instruction page supports a funded Mother Earth sensory science in action. It links to educating, counseling and healing college faculty careers and positions for nature degree candidates. It announced organic psychology social network openings that help us improve health, wellness and counseling by enabling our thinking and feeling to safely tap into the nature's grace, balance and restorative powers. Teachers and participants benefit from and strengthen their inborn love of nature as they master home jobs and employment opportunities for alternative therapist coaching, natural stress release and management and holistic spiritual psychology. PROGRAM DESCRIPTION: Now training and hiring instructors and administrators for Educating Counseling and Healing With Nature Supportive Degrees, Career Training Courses and Jobs On Line Project NatureConnect offers nature-centered distant learning that enables its participants and teachers to add the benefits of nature-connecting methods and credentials to their degree programs, careers and/or their skills, interests and hobbies. We honor your prior training and life experience by providing grants and equivalent education credit for it. You may take accredited or professional CEU coursework and/or obtain a Nature-Connected Degree or Certificate in most disciplines or personal interests. A partial subject list is located at the bottom of this page.
Project NatureConnect: APPLIED ECOPSYCHOLOGY AND ECOTHERAPY FACULTY AND ADMINISTRATORS DESCRIBE A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE THEY HAVE HAD IN NATURE FIELD OF STUDY Natural Attraction Ecology (NAE): The Process of Educating Counseling and Healing With Nature (ECHN) I Become The Life Cycle Every fall, I notice a distinct transformation in myself. I started hunting in with my father when I was a boy... on occasion when I was very young, he would take me rabbit hunting where my part was to "be the dog" and flush out quarry from the thickets and brambles by being as clumsy and loud as possible (something I excelled at)... when I was around 11, I started to participate in regular deer hunts with my father and his friends. It was in the quite of these regular excursions into the woods that I began to notice distinct sensory differences (although I probably did not objectively examine these thoughts until sometime in my 20s). Still, to this day, I notice a change when I am on a deer hunt, waiting in the cold quite stillness of early fall mornings. As a middle aged man, with partial deafness in my left ear, extreme nearsightedness, and olfactory senses that have been almost wiped out by years of working in an organic chemistry lab, my day to day senses (and hear I'm speaking of the commonly acknowledged ones, rather than the broader spectrum that Mike has identified) are not what you would call razor sharp. But after about a half hour in the woods, that begins to change. I become much more attune to what is around me and this manifests itself in me being able to hear the slightest sounds, smell freshly kicked up leaves from far away, and pick up motion and clear shapes that I know are on the very edge of my vision range. I have characterized this from time to time as my "predator gene" turning on... but whatever it is, I know that my senses are much sharper in these situations and that is a large part of why I am so connected to the woods near my home. I do notice that when I'm on hikes or just walking through the woods, I do experience a slighter effect, but still noticeable. For me, however, the most heightened experiences come while waiting in the quite of a hunt... perhaps because I am not just passing through the web of the woods, but am an active part of the life cycle during those times.... just my thoughts. Growing Civilized Since I was a young boy my family lived at the edge of town in New York, an area on the South hill overlooking the University on the hill across. Our part of town, called "The Klondike" was built up by a group of Italian families in the early 1910's. It was names such because we were excluded from all public utilities and road services. We had no gas and electric, no sewer, no water and the road was not improved, with grass growing down the center of the road. In the Winter we had to struggle each morning to get out through the snowbanks or mud filled road. This environment had some very interesting advantages, since being in the forest and away from "civilization" we were living among an abundance of wild creatures. I remember the free flowing creeks that proceeded through our neighborhoods. I remember vividly the color and smell of the Fall as the leaves changed color and fell to the ground. I recall the beauty of the snow cover, the frost in our nose, and the whistling of the wind . Footprints in the snow included deer, rabbit, and a wide range of critters that proceeded to cross our yard. The small lakes that dotted the neighborhoods were filled with trout, bass and sunfish. and the water was so clean you could drink without concern. The sky was abundant with robins, blue birds, jays, black birds, and sparrows. Canadian geese filled the air with sound as they migrated north and south each year. At night the sky was so clear, we could see stars all the way to the horizon. The sound of the crickets filled the night, only to be interrupted on occasion by the sound of a car struggling down the roadway. Strange, while we were considered poor by most standards, we were rich by our connection to nature, and we knew it. Hicks, perhaps, but what a love of nature filled all of us. This connection made us brothers, indeed. I left New York after my college years and returned there only infrequently. As a middle-aged man, I visited the neighborhoods once again. I was a stranger to this now "civilized' community, no longer considered the Klondike. Smile Off the Accusations I sat enchanted by the sound and pungent fragrance of this inter-tidal bay on the coast of Maine The mile-long resonating trek of the sea from its low to high point, and back, energized everything it touched including me. I felt in tune with it, like I was part of the geologic forces I sensed, a love so strong that I purchased this shore land along with the wild island in the bay. When I first arrived at the bay, my island, a mile offshore, beckoned me and I walked to it across the muddy tidelands as clams squirted their greetings. While visiting it, I reveled in its isolated integrity when panic struck. I saw the tide rapidly returning, cutting off my route to the mainland until midnight. I rushed back through the muck barely winning the race with the rising water. I learned yet another form of nature appreciation: respect for the rhythm and dance of the tide. From that day on I usually motored of rowed my boat to my island when the tide was high. In the process I made a fascinating discovery. When I rowed, some 45 seals in the bay would follow close behind me, staring intently at the boat as I, in wonder and delight, stared back at them. But, when I used the motor, the seals were nowhere in sight. Their consistent behavior suggested that they were trustfully curious about me using the oars and disinterested or fearful when I used the motor. Later, I used this information to their benefit. Our state Senator, even though he had never visited the bay, proposed a power dam that would terminate the seals' existence there and permanently remove the water from hundreds of acres of tideland. I invited the senator to tour the bay with me one sunny day. As I rowed him out to the island, he faced forward towards me while sitting on the boat's back seat. I asked him how the thought the local seal population might feel about his proposed dam. He looked perplexed and while the question was on his mind I swiveled the boat 180 degrees saying “Let's ask them.” His view was now of forty-seven seals treading water and staring intently at him. He was visibly moved. That week, back at the state capital, he withdrew his support for the dam he had proposed to build. He told me that he felt proud to be able to smile off the accusations from some of his colleagues that he was a hypocrite. Newly Heightened Senses When I was 19 and a student at UCLA I decided I would go on a solo retreat in the desert during spring break. I drove my old Studebaker to Anza-Borrego State Park, shouldered a backpack with camping gear, food, and books, and headed off towards an oasis recommended by the park ranger. The walk was about 6 miles and I enjoyed the exercise, dry clear air, rocks, and wildflowers. The oasis was beautiful: a small pond, green grass, flowers, elephant trees and palms, set off against the brown of the surrounding hills. The experience was entirely positive until night came. As I lay in my sleeping bag on a tarp, I became aware of more and more of my senses. In the fading light I saw mysterious movements all around me, in the dark I heard the rustling of small animals in the bushes and wasps in the ground under my tarp. I smelled unusual smells. I sensed the presence of water/humidity on one side, dry sand and rock on the other. I felt the breeze on my face and the earth under me. My terror of the creatures of the night brought all my senses to full alert, although my experience of my surroundings was nearly drowned out by my sense of my own body -- pounding heartbeat, rapid breathing, rumbling gut. Somehow, I eventually slept and when I awoke in the morning I found a scorpion on my sleeping bag, rattlesnake trails in the sand, and the tracks of a coyote near the water, but none of this was so frightening in the morning. The second night I was again tense and alert, but not terrified as I had been on the first night. This time I tried to stay awake but failed. I awoke early in the morning and sat quietly watching a coyote drinking from the pond. The third night I was comfortable and relaxed but my senses were still on full alert. What a wonderful experience! I saw a movement in the dark and turned on my flashlight to illuminate a large cat (bobcat? moutain lion?) that instantly disappeared. The first night this would have terrified me; by this time I felt I belonged in this place and had no sense of whatsoever of being threatened. The next day I returned to Los Angeles, where my newly-heightened senses were assaulted by the pandemonium of the city. A Poplar on a Windy Day For days I've been attracted to a large Poplar at the bottom of the meadow below us. I watched it from my office window. I watched it outside from the deck. I watched it sitting on the bench behind our house. It has been windy and every day I've seen it blowing wildly in the wind. It's branches bouncing a tossing in so many different directions all at once. I did the nature activity that remains my favorite where you become the object in nature you are attracted to. I enjoyed miming that Poplar’s movements immensely. I found it relaxing and energizing at the same time. But it took a while to realize it was also bringing me an important lesson. I knew I’d experiencing a lot of stress of late, but other than knowing it felt nice to move with the Poplar I didn’t realize why I continued to be so very attracted to this tree, watching and watching it. Not until yesterday. Yesterday my husband and I had our annual appointments with our bioenergetic MD. He said we were both very stressed. No surprise there. He also said that every single patient he’s seen for months now comes in severely stressed. He provided us with homeopathic tinctures and a dis-stress treatment. We were grateful and started to the car to travel home. On the way out to the car I had an epiphany. In that moment I am like this tree, living in the wind. Going in so many directions in response the buffeting circumstances of our life and these changing times. And I saw that not only is that OK, it's the only way to go right now. I’d been feeling disappointed in myself for not being more focused and organized. Not "getting it together." Being so scattered and seemingly directionless. But while being absolutely rooted in the earth, in order to respond to the wind and by so doing is keeping itself together, the Poplar is exactly all those things too. It stays together because it’s limbs are going in so many directions. So, this tree has been showing me that what I'm doing is what I need to be doing and I can enjoy the seeming chaos of it, just as I enjoyed doing so when I mimed the movements of the tree. There is a lovely rhythm to the tree’s chaos and when I stop trying not to be chaotic there is a lovely rhythm to mine. This rhythm is what keeps one together in windy times. What a lovely lesson and how determined both I and nature have been in trying to point it out to me!! If a Tree Could Ask Itself My intervention classroom has become the outdoors, my greenboard is nature’s elements and creatures and folders or notebooks have been replaced by interactions between pupil, nature and the webstrings they discover as they learn to accept the outdoors and embrace it. We go outsides and choose to sit under a tree which attracts us. We are thankful for the shade it gives us from the intense heat and then we go through our checklist. Checklist for a tree – if a tree could ask itself….. § Did I shelter the seedlings that live in my shade -- so they will grow up to be a next generation like myself? § Did I grow towards the sun as a tree should, reaching up higher and higher towards that which I can never grasp, but which nurtures me all the same the more I strive towards it? § Did I make sure my roots remain firmly planted in the soil that nurtures them, and did I drop my leaves there in the fall to give back life to that which sustains me? § Did I ensure that my fruits were sweet and nourished all that came to enjoy them? Did everyone walk away from me with a smile? § Did I bend gently in the wind, accepting what nature sends but never breaking or giving up hope? § Did I grow in strength and wisdom with each new ring this year? A Brilliant Reciprocating Moment One July not too long ago, I felt the need for some sort of marker or ceremony to sever my connection with my working life. I was inclined to celebrate and properly prepare for entering a year off teaching to do research and to write my doctoral dissertation in Applied Ecopsychology. So I went to Utah for a week's participation in a course called "Vision Walkers." It was designed for those whose lives always seemed to be skirting the edge of consensus culture because of a vision of a better world, clear or not, that they've always seemed to hold. Mysteriously, and sometimes uncomfortably or confusingly, that vision always persisted while simultaneously always seemed to be going against the dominant culture's grain. So the week's intent was to help us each formulate our own next step in our own lives toward that vision. Appropriately enough, we camped along the edge of a butte overlooking Butt's Canyon. Because of flight scheduling and itinerary circumstances, I had to rent my own car in Albuquerque NM and leave our group at dawn on the last morning rather than stay till lunch and leave together in a caravan back to Durango, CO. My rental car was the only vehicle incapable of making it over the last two or so kilometers to our site, so I had to park it for a week and pray it wouldn't be stolen or vandalized. Fear of human aggression was uppermost at this point, perhaps a leftover from my urban life, as I have no worries of squirrels, raccoons, or the odd fox. It turned out we were a diverse but well meshed group of strangers, forged together by violent thunder storms and torrential rains that began the day we arrived. First off, we received a very thorough set of instructions about waste management, foodstuffs, and scented products (toothpaste, etc.) and how/where to store them so as not to attract bears. Over the next three days, we all further bonded through being forced to undertake our activities in a very tight circle, wearing every stitch we'd brought for warmth, under a makeshift patchwork of tarps. We'd occasionally poke the tarps above us to release the pools that had gathered, and at other times we'd simply stop to watch the lightning strikes light up the vista and enjoy the resonance of the thunder in our very bones. It is the coziest thing in the world to bed down in a dry tent while the world around you unleashes a fury of energy. It's also VERY neat to be perched in said bed three or four feet from the edge of a cliff to watch the light show and hear the reverberations. On the first sunny day, we were assigned to a spiritual/nature-connection exercise that included going for a walk outside the camp. My mind wandered to my car, and I decided to walk the rutted dirt road through Manti la Sal National Forest to see how it was doing. As I got farther and farther from camp, our warnings about bears played in my mind and I became aware that this fear of bears was overcoming me more and more strongly. My head began to swivel around on my neck as if on a spike, and I turned to walk backwards from time to time scanning off the road across the meadows and into the forest. The farther I got, the more afraid I became. I refused to give into it, and my heart rate increased as I continued along till I finally reached the car and saw it was okay. As i leaned on the car I thought that facing that same psychological gauntlet on the way back was unattractive, and I was even more fearful that my fear itself would attract the very bear I was trying to avoid. I had to do something to calm myself down, and remembered I'd heard that sometimes bears respond to a soft, quiet voice. So I began to walk and to sing, in a shaky little voice, a song of Thanksgiving. It's the only one I teach my grade one students because it's nature-centered and involves no violence towards turkeys. It goes to the tune of Brahms Lullaby: We give thanks for the earth, For the day and the night, For the moon and for the stars, For the sun that gives us light. For the clouds and the rain, For the fields full of grain, For the land and the seas, For the flowers and trees. I sang that song over and over and over, again and again. Simultaneously I noticed two things: I felt calmer and calmer and my voice got stronger, louder, more confident, uplifted and ensouled. My stride increased in length and relaxation, and I began to almost perform. Somewhere the shift happened that I was no longer trying to ward off fear, but was taking my place in the forest and offering a gift that only a human could offer. It was then I noticed a deer stopped on the edge of the woods, looking at me. I stopped and stared back, and thought to myself "Lucky me!" How few humans ever came here or saw these things. In a brilliant reciprocating moment, I realized that there were even fewer deer that ever got to hear a human sing. It was then I thought, "Lucky deer!" Allowing Nature To Teach During the years of 1992 through 1994, I had the good fortune to live on an old abandoned Rice Plantation here in the South Carolina Lowcountry, near Charleston. There were no structures or homes remaining on this property and it was all very much like wilderness. On this large acreage were four unique habitats to this Lowcountry area of South Carolina. In the Lowcountry, there were several habitats which supported the Rice Culture of the 18th and 19th century of this young country. Bottom-land Bald Cypress and Tupelo Swamp, Freshwater River systems, and Coastal Brackish/Salt or Tidal Water Systems where a freshwater river would be influenced by Southeastern Atlantic tidal dynamics. Freshwater would ride on top of the incoming tides which pushed upriver, and would therefore be managed in such a way to benefit Rice growers. This particular Rice plantation which I lived on utilized the Bald Cypress and Tupelo Swamp freshwater flow system, primarily, but could have used the Tidal system as well, since this plantation was situated upstream of a brackish marsh system. Therefore, at least four habitats exist and are protected on this property, to this day. Bald Cypress and Tupelo Swamp, Freshwater Marsh (of the old Rice Fields), Live Oak, Pine and Mixed hardwood forest, and a Brackish/Salt Marsh creek and river system. The old rice fields and canal/dike systems were still very functional, but were no longer in production. Wildlife is still abundant throughout this large acreage, and its extensive forest and swamp system. Documentation of each species of poisonous snake in the Eastern United States was established, as well as a confirmed cougar siting. I lived a very intentionally simply life here, as I wanted to blend into the habitat with as little intrusion as possible. So, I chose to live in an old Volkswagen camper van, and later in a Tepee, with a small enclosed tent inside to prevent many critters from sleeping with me. I found several spots which naturally attracted me for quiet observation and participation with wildlife. One of these spots was under a large Live Oak tree next to an old rice canal and trunk gate system (used to regulate incoming and outgoing freshwater flow). I had come to this particular spot many times and sat peacefully without fear. I had also observed and alligator in this canal nudging a small deer in the water which had just been snatched off the bank before I arrived one day. One particular day, while I was approaching this Live Oak tree area, became a profound and continuing sensory/spiritual lesson for me. On this particular day, I had received a very sad letter about a close friend and I went to this area for peace. This natural area was without tall grasses or any thick underbrush and I always felt very safe walking up to this Live Oak tree. The letter had, however, placed me in a state which caused me to relax my usual in-the-moment sensory awareness. As I walked toward the tree in such a state, suddenly I saw a quick dark flash of motion on the ground and heard a thud. Coming to my whole natural senses, I immediately saw what had happened. I had stepped within six or eight inches of a full-grown Cotton-Mouth Moccasin. My heart was pounding and as I looked at this snake I saw that it lay where it landed, after striking away from me not turning to face me, recoiling or constricting in defense. My heart continuing to pound, along with my awareness as to what happened, brought on fear and vulnerability. The thought came to mind then, that I should kill this dangerous snake because I may not see it next time and be bitten. With the snake lying stretched out within a foot and a half from me, with the ability to crawl into a cluster of rocks within inches for safety, my whole sensory system came alive and included what I will refer to as a profound sensory/cognitive/spiritual mix of holistic experience. I felt vulnerable, BUT so was the snake; lying there indicating to me that it was not turning to fight, and the experience of what happened, then and there, proved to me that this particular snake, at this time, intended no harm to me. I quickly matched and resonated my experience with this snake and my heart slowed to calm. I no longer felt vulnerable. Then an addition spiritual experience of deep reverence came over me as I realized the lesson of this match/resonant spiritual experience. I very softly and gently walked around to face to the front of this snake, laid down on my belly in complete calm/stillness, within four feet and raised my head to match its head---and silently thanked this spiritual being. In a few moments, I got up and gently walked away; all the while this snake lay completely motionless. I came back to this place two days later to find a complete skeleton of a Cotton-Mouth Moccasin within twenty feet of the original experience. For there to be a complete skeleton of a snake, left after such time in such habitat, is completely rare. Normally predation would have not left a trace of the snake. I could only conclude that ants had cleaned it. I picked up one rib bone and have it to this day, in a sacred place. In all my countless encounters with wildlife, I have never been attacked. These close encounter/relationships have included Bobcats, other poisonous snakes, wild Hogs, Deer, etc.. Stillness and calm is essential in such situations---and a willingness to be open to allowing Nature to teach. “Our ability to cognitively abstract our contact with the world constantly takes our sensory experience and hides it under a veil of thought.” (Cohen, 2003, The Web of Life Imperative, p.63) All I Have to do is Show Up “If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?” My friend and I jokingly debated this age-old question on our way into the woods for an afternoon hike. We walked together for awhile before coming to a familiar fork in the path. One leg led to a small pond, the other up and over a ravine. This day, my friend was attracted to scaling the ravine, but I was feeling rather tired and wanted to take the easier trek towards the pond. So we split up, agreeing to meet at the water in a couple of hours. When I reached the pond I sat down to rest in a comfortable hollow between the protruding roots of a tall tree. My fingers found a nearby stick and began mindlessly twirling it. I closed my tired eyes to soak in the peaceful silence of the woods, but no sooner had I done so when a red-winged blackbird broke the stillness. Careeeeee. Careeeeee, it cried, repeating the phrase over and over. A bit annoyed with its monotonous shreek I decided to look for some attraction in it and focused on synching my breath with its rhythm. A few moments later a distant crow sounded. Caw…Caw, it called out. Caw…Caw. In what seemed like deliberate intention, the timing of its caws happened to fit perfectly between the pauses of the blackbird’s notes. Careeeeee. Caw-Caw. Careeeeee. Caw-Caw. The two voices were rather catchy together and I found myself actually enjoying the melody. The birds were conversing away when a frog in the nearby pond started to croak. Suddenly, it was as if someone had just flicked off the mute button on the forest and sounds were now coming at me from all directions. Pond toads started to squeal in that high-pitched song they make when they mate. Hot bugs woke up and buzzed. Perhaps thinking that this little forest band needed a drummer, a woodpecker began drilling overhead. Slowly at first, then faster, then slower again, tapping the bark in musical beat with it all. Even the wind joined in, causing the leaves of the hardwoods to rustle and prompting the pines to whistle. The synchronistic sounds of these diverse entertainers was very pleasing and I found myself clicking my tongue against the roof of my mouth, adding another layer of harmony. By now, I was totally lost in the glory and unity of the moment. Sometime later, I opened my eyes and caught glimpse of my hand. It was still twirling that stick I had picked up when I first sat down. Oh my gosh, I smirked. Could I have been the one who started this little symphony in the first place? The forest had been so quiet when I first got here. Were the creatures responding to the waving of my stick like an orchestra heeds a conductor‘s baton? I sat there in stunned observance and wonder. As I contemplated this happy possibility, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It startled me and I jumped. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you”, apologized my friend. “Were you sleeping?” “Hardly,” I said, surprised that two hours had passed so quickly. “No, I was making music.” “Huh,” said my friend. “I didn’t hear anything.” “Perhaps if a band began jamming in the forest, and you were not around to hear it, it didn’t make a sound,” I said, feeling so glad that I was around and did hear! It’s been awhile now since I had this memorable experience in the woods. It is special to me because it taught me that: 1) I have the power to find attraction in every un-attraction and make myself feel better. 2) Whatever I personally sense in Nature is my Truth and can be absolutely trusted, regardless if anyone else confirms, or agrees with it. Similarly I must respect other’s peoples personal Truths, thus challenging a lot of my wrangler issues with trying to control other people, or to prove myself right. 3) I don’t have to fear the future. It’s okay to not know all the answers. There is excitement and joy in being open to life unfolding on life’s terms. All I have to do is show up and expect the miracles. Act
now.
Master
Organic Psychology by doing it. http://www.ecopsych.comAchieve a Degree or Certificate to strengthen your professional interests, or your hobbies or pastimes, by connecting them with nature. Implement your strongest hopes as you increase personal and global well being. Topics, subjects or leisure pursuits can include those listed below or other areas of interest: |
|
 .
-
Albert Einstein ....................................... |