9 minute read
By Jake Hogan
Silence, Solitude, Sanctuary
By Jake Hogan
A professor of mine once gave my class a straightforward prompt: write about a place that looms large in your memory. My thoughts quickly settled on the memory of a summer day in Bolonia, but it was not the stone columns left by Romans nor the rugged hills of Morocco across the strait that called my mind back. It was not the great dune of sand we walked up that “loomed large.” Rather, the part of that day that has remained vivid in my mind is the moment that I descended from the dune into a patch of juniper trees. Sitting under a low ceiling of swaying branches over a bed of sand and fallen needles, I was greeted with silence.
I recall family camping trips where an uncle of mine would take walks at night. Rather than take a flashlight to guide him through Groton State Forest, he would look directly up as he walked, using gaps in the dark canopy to avoid walking into trees. He could have done the same thing in the daytime. His evening walks, though, offered him a degree of solitude as he connected to the landscape by letting it guide him.
Reflecting on these personal stories, it appears to me that there is something that draws people to spend time by themselves in the natural world. This trend extends far beyond my own observations, though. The 2021 film “Land”, in which a woman seeks to overcome tragedy by isolating herself in a remote cabin, is only a recent example of this idea in a long history of similar stories. From classic novels like “Into the Wild” by Jon Krakaurer, to the writing of transcendentalists like Henry David Thoreau, to the sublime landscapes of romantic painters like Caspar David Freidrich, a similar theme is revealed: to be alone in nature is a profoundly transformative experience. Dwelling on this realization led me to wonder: where does this phenomenon come from? What is it about human nature that begs us to seek solitude in nature?
In order to answer these questions, I have felt that I must consider how human relationships with the environment have evolved over time. Throughout the course of human history, our perceived place within the greater context of the natural world has radically changed. As soon as humans began forming permanent settlements, a disparity between what is natural and what is human was created. Technological advancements and the development of ideologies emphasizing the uniqueness of humans, among other things, exacerbated this gap and created the concept of “wilderness”. In many ancient accounts, perhaps most noticeably in biblical stories, wilderness refers to dangerous, barren lands that lay beyond sedentary human settlements.
In his article “The Trouble with Wilderness”, however, historian William Cronon details a radical change in this relationship. Attitudes toward nature, specifically in the United States, were transformed by romanticism and frontier-ideologies. By the 19th century, attitudes toward the wilderness focused on the beauty and God-evoking landscapes to be seen beyond human settlements, and a collective idealization of nature fueled the early conservationist movement. It is easy to understand how these sentiments would promote solo nature experiences as a way to experience something sublime.
Because of this, I was quick to suspect that the trope of a person going out into nature alone was fueled by a desire to discover truths about themselves or the larger world. Surely, I assumed, it is a symptom of the modern continuation of this nation’s sense of place. If this were true, it would be reasonable to expect that there are cultures very different from our own in which this phenomenon cannot be observed. Across cultural and historical context, though, there are examples of people having transformative experiences in nature.
From the same biblical societies which Cronon notes thought of the wilderness as a dangerous, godless place, there are stories in which solitude and nature are central. The Bible teaches that Jesus overcame temptation while alone in the Judaean desert and that before him, God spoke to Moses various times when he was alone on mountains. Beyond this, many of the religions that are foundational to billions of people’s lives and ideologies include similar stories. To name a few, it is said that the prophet Muhammad recieved his first revelations while meditating alone in a cave, and that the Buddha reached enlightenment sitting under a pipal tree.
Spending time independently in the wilderness is also
considered a rite of passage in various cultures outside of religious tradition. For example, young men in some Aboriginal Australian cultures participate in a historical tradition of temporary mobility, a period in which they leave their communities in order to enter adulthood and become spiritually mature. That this idea is present in cultures and societies with largely disparate relationships to nature suggests that whatever draws people to be alone in nature goes beyond socially constructed values or trends.
As it turns out, there is a great deal of psychological evidence to support why humans may be drawn to this type of experience. In a review consolidating decades of research, Lia Naor and Ofra Mayseless, two researchers focused on the connection between nature and psychology, identify this concept, which they deem the “Wilderness Solo Experience”. Their research concludes that two key factors contribute to the psychological benefits of this phenomenon: silence and solitude. Why, then, is a natural setting foundational to this experience? How is sitting alone in the quiet of a library any less valuable than doing the same in a forest? The answer is that silence is more than the absence of noise, and solitude is more than the absence of other people.
In the example of the library, silence is achieved not only by not speaking, but also by turning one’s attention away from all of the surrounding distractions, shutting out intrusive thoughts, and focusing the mind. In natural spaces, however, one does not need to narrow their focus away from an abundance of technological and otherwise anthropogenic stimuli. Rather, many report feeling an expansion of their awareness, and an increased ability to think and reflect clearly. Similarly, being alone in everyday life involves separation, while having an independent experience in nature often involves connection to the environ-
ment and deep feelings of belonging. When these two aspects combine, they facilitate self-reflection and contemplation of one’s own place in the wider world.
Beyond this, there is a vast sea of established benefits to spending time outdoors, and perhaps many more that have yet to be discovered. Many of these are consolidated in Florence William’s book “The Nature Fix”, where she presents time in nature as a remedy for stress and the many mental health ills plaguing society. Thirty-three years before William’s book, biologist Edward O. Wilson published “Biophillia”, in which he proposed that the love of nature is a fundamental human characteristic and having positive environmental experiences is a key aspect of the human experience.
Considering this research, the ability to experience nature in this way is an incredibly valuable resource. Beyond the psychological benefits provided by silence and solitude, however, the American Public Health Association (APHA) recognizes that access to natural spaces is linked to increased physical health and greater social capital. That said, while this access offers certain advantages to those privy to it, it is not available to everyone, creating, as many environmental problems do, an issue of justice.
The ability to easily and safely access natural spaces is not experienced equally. In his essay, “Environmentalism’s Racist History”, legal scholar Jedediah Purdy notes that, in the United States specifically, the modern environmentalist movement was most influenced by elite, white men. Though the environmental movement has often brought about positive change, its legacy manifests in a lack of diversity in modern environmental leadership. This is only one of many complex factors contributing to the reality that many of the environmental crises we face today disproportionately affect poor and minority communities. On top of bearing the brunt of pollution and damage by extreme weather events, these groups are deprived of positive environmental experiences.
One might expect that in Vermont, where nature and outdoor recreation are core aspects of the state’s identity, residents would be ahead of the curve in terms of access to these spaces. When examining the available data, however, this assumption quickly dissolves. The U.S. Department of Agriculture finds that in Vermont, BIPOC citizens own only a small fraction of the private woodlands, forests, and agricultural land in the state. Of course, Vermont still has a great wealth of public natural spaces, but according to the Center for American Progress, 76% of BIPOC Vermonters live in “nature deprived” areas compared to just 20% of white Vermonters.
“Vermont exceptionalism has finally been challenged by data that shows us that many Vermonters do not enjoy a quality environmental experience,” said State Senator Kesha Ram Hinsdale, one of the legislators fighting to address this issue, having recently introduced a bill that would establish environmental justice policies in Vermont.
The proposed bill S.148 tackles many issues of public health stemming from environmental factors, including disproportionate ability to access to green spaces. Reflecting on her own experience, Sen. Ram Hinsdale said, “I moved to Shelburne last year. I can walk out of my house and be in green space in 30 seconds.” She feels that many are excluded from enjoying the wellness benefits associated with wilderness experiences “based on income, race, or language access.” This inadequate access also has an impact on culture and religion, as “we still don’t necessarily have the best infrastructure for groups to have a cultural ceremony or religious festival in nature.”
Implementing legislation to combat this is overdue in the state. “It’s been 15 years that we’ve been trying to draft this legislation. In that time, the EPA has asked Vermont repeatedly to get its environmental justice policy in place. We’re one of the last states that doesn’t have one.”
Outside of the United States, other countries have taken steps that address the issue of access to nature. A number of European nations, for example, have the “right to roam,” also called the right of public access to the wilderness. This provides their citizens with a fundamental right to access nature, and, in theory, to have the quintessential “wilderness solo experience” and the improved well-being associated with it. To be guaranteed this access is something that a growing number of activists are claiming should be a human right.
It should be noted that as we increase access to nature, we must simultaneously ensure that we increase our efforts to protect it. Greater human traffic to natural spaces has the potential to degrade them and interfere with their ecological dynamics, and perhaps it is necessary to not only guarantee green space access, but guarantee access to a healthy environment. However, research suggests that there is a link between meaningful experiences in nature and environmentally-friendly behavior. In other words, the more time a person spends in nature, the more they tend to care about protecting the environment. If this is true, a feedback loop of sorts could be created in which giving people access to natural spaces encourages a greater degree of environmental stewardship. The practice of being alone in nature is deeply embedded in the human experience, and maybe this universal tradition has the power to promote healing for both people and the planet. H
Art by Maggoe Alberghini
