By Ian Banyard
Some of my earliest memories are of being outdoors playing in the natural world. I’ve never felt vulnerable or afraid in the wilderness. For me being lost in the woods or immersed in nature feels very natural. In nature I feel at home.
I was born in 1961 and raised in Gloucestershire, UK. I remember evenings after school and weekends escaping into nature with my friends to play. There were no computers, tablets or smart phones to occupy our minds then, and only 3 channels on the TV. So, often alone, I would lose myself for hours wandering through meadows and woodland in search of the peace and freedom that was all too often missing in my life.
Life at home was sometimes very hard, confusing and painful because my mother was ill. According to her doctors my mother had lost her mind. I learned many years later that, due to difficulties in her early life, my mother had suffered a mental breakdown and was diagnosed with Manic Depression or Bi-Polar as it’s referred to today. This put huge amounts of pressure on my father who did his best to keep a job, protect and look after his young children and cope with seeing the woman he loved pendulum swing between periods of being very low and lifeless to explosive bursts of disruptive and often dangerously manic behaviour. I recall on one occasion being awoken by shouting in the kitchen at 2am to find my father trying to calm my mother down and stop her from redecorating our kitchen with all the half empty pots of paint she’d found.
At times life was physically, emotionally and mentally tough for all of my family and this had both a negative and positive influences on my life as an adult. Knowing that my mother had something wrong with her brain, preventing her from being in control of her own mind, guided me towards learning as much as I could about brain science and psychology. Fortunately, during the most challenging times, there was an abundance of countryside where we lived and nature became not only my playground, but also my sanctuary.
Fast-forward thirty years. It was the eve of a new Millennium and I was in serious trouble.
My 12-year marriage was in an irreconcilable state. I’d walked away from a well-paid, 18-year career in middle management and was about to lose access to my 3 beautiful children. I couldn’t cope with my life. Inside I felt unfulfilled and guilty for feeling that way. Compared to my parents’ life I had everything and was in the process of throwing it all away like an ungrateful child.
Rather than living my life, I felt I was merely an observer. I felt empty and disconnected. For years I had been trying to live my life based on the expectations of others and now feared that, just like my mother, I was about to break down and lose my mind.
Looking back I now see that, like many others, I was struggling to find logical answers to emotional and spiritual dilemmas.
I vividly recall something deep within me, guiding me back to the sanctuary of my childhood. Just as migratory birds and fish just know, I just knew. It wasn’t a logical or a very rational decision. It was more an instinct, or intuition. Following this intuition, I left Gloucestershire and travelled 300 miles north to the beautiful English Lake District and lost myself in nature.
I was alone. My life had unraveled. I was divorced and missed my children. I had little work and crippling debts. I was 40 pounds overweight. I went to my doctor and was assigned a counsellor as I refused anti-depressants. Having witnessed what the side effects of drugs had done to my mother as a child, I’ve never taken pills to cope with life and hopefully never will.
At the point when I thought I’d lost everything in my life, my father passed away. His heart finally gave out after a lifetime of worry and the burden of feeling responsible for everyone. Then 5 months later my mother died suddenly, without warning, from a brain aneurysm. Now I felt like I really had lost everything.
With nothing else to lose (other than 40 pounds of excess weight) I decided to set out daily to explore the beautiful English Lake District and the coastline along the Solway Firth in search of solace. I immersed myself in nature with only my adopted trail hound Sammy for company and searched for answers, looked for reasons and some relief from my suffering.
My counsellor suggested I try meditation classes to help me cope with the stress, but trying to still my mind by sitting still was impossible for me at that time. I frequently just fell asleep. Then a dear friend introduced me to kinhin (walking meditation) which led me to the teachings of Thich Nhat Hanh and the healing power of mindfulness.
By walking regularly in nature I rediscovered a kind of mindfulness state that was stimulated by wilderness and natural spaces. This state that I now call Natural Mindfulness, comes very easily and naturally to me. It isn’t taught, it’s something we already know deep down and perhaps lose as we grow into adulthood.
I’ve always felt a part of nature rather than apart from it. Now, by walking mindfully on a daily basis, I began to experience a profound sense of inner balance, healing and intimate connection. The beauty, tranquility and occasional harshness of the natural world around me somehow enabled me to easily slip into a meditative state. The same state of mind that had eluded me in a traditional mindfulness practice came naturally to me when I walked in nature.
The key to walking mindfully is to pay (or invest) attention on the present moment. In other words bring your attention to the landscape around you using your senses to guide your mind. Practice intentionally moving your focus between panoramic vistas to tiny details like the veins on a leaf or the way sunlight dances on the surface of a lake. By standing still in a forest with your eyes closed you can allow your other senses to flourish, hearing, feeling and smelling more than you notice with your eyes open.
In the summer and early autumn/fall I would gather fruit, berries and nuts as I walked and would practice mindful eating – looking at what I was about to eat while resisting the urge to just pop it in my mouth and chew. I would then smell to see if I could detect any fragrance and notice what effect that had on my thoughts about eating it. The best bit was holding the berry or nut in my mouth and resisting the urge to chew and swallow while my mouth salivated. Once I did swallow I followed the sensation of the food as it passed from my mouth, down my throat towards my stomach, just to see for how long I could be aware of any sensation from it.
I remember on many walks coming across other walkers who despite being in beautiful landscapes, constantly chattered to each other. Filling the air with thoughts, judgments and opinions about their past experiences, or worries, concerns and plans about a future time that was yet to come. I remember having the realisation that time spent thinking and chatting about somewhere else robs us of so many opportunities to just be in the present, fully enjoying the moments. I’m not saying walking with natural mindfulness should be a silent practice, far from it. I would often walk with others and talk about the past and future. The difference, however, is I was consciously choosing where to put my attention and mindful of the effect my conversations were having on my companions.
If you would like to experience walking with Natural Mindfulness for yourself one of the easiest exercises to try is one I call “Walking in Breath”.
So often when people walk together they lose touch with their body and don’t always notice the terrain they are walking in. That is until they ‘get out of breath’ or start to ‘lose their breath’. Staying in breath is a wonderful way to give attention to your body and your surroundings. When driving your car you will notice when you are approaching a hill. You will have probably have seen a sign, next you will hear the engine begin to labour and feel the car slowing down a little. At this point you will effortlessly shift down a gear or two depending on the steepness and continue to drive up the incline in comfort. “Walking in Breath” uses exactly the same principle. The aim is to walk while staying in breath, using your senses to notice the signs and gauge your level of comfort and effortlessly making small adjustments to flow naturally through the landscape. Feel free to try this next time you are out walking.
Combining walking with mindfulness in a natural environment gives us a clarity of thinking with which to contemplate the most important questions in life. On my daily Natural Mindfulness walks in the Lake District I frequently received insights and guidance in the form of metaphorical life-lessons.
I call these “Life Lessons from Nature” which are all around us, opportunities available to be noticed if only we are present while walking in nature. One time while walking and contemplating how life had knocked me down and feeling sorry for myself, I noticed a gigantic tree that had been recently uprooted by the wind. The giant tree had crushed many of the smaller trees surrounding it as it fell.
This natural mindfulness experience reminded me of the importance of looking after my roots (beliefs, values and cares) and grounding them in a strong nourishing community. Connecting with family, friends and others who share my values and beliefs. Strong communities where we care about ourselves and each other equally can ensure we remain upright no matter how fierce the storm.
As I noticed the smaller saplings that had been crushed by the fallen giant, tears welled up in my eyes as I thought about the effect my fall had had on my children.
Over time Natural Mindfulness has helped me access a profound clarity of thought, an acceptance that life is what it is, a sense of peace and inner balance and the wisdom that our true nature can be found and healed only in the present moment.
Today I live in the English Cotswolds with my wife Penny and our young daughter Lacey. My Three now grown up, children from my first marriage are so much closer to me now, not just geographically.
Penny and I run a successful, award winning corporate event management company and in August 2014 I launched Cotswold Natural Mindfulness a company that specialises in guiding natural mindfulness walks.
Every month myself and a growing group of ‘Life Guides’ each host a Natural Mindfulness walk. We walk in all seasons and weathers – weekends, week days, mornings and evenings (in the summer months). Each walk is different as life guides bring their own experiences and their unique true nature to the experience. The philosophy of Natural Mindfulness being something we experience and can practice, rather than learn is key and a theme on all of our walks.
Group numbers range from as little as 2 or 3 to sometimes 12+ and we walk for 2 -3 hours at a gentle pace. The idea is to escape the world of busy for a short time and remember how to slow down so there is no need to rush. We are also launching 7 Day Natural Mindfulness Detox experiences for people who want a more in depth experience and “The Natural Mindfulness Guidebook” will be available in Spring 2016.
Thanks to the internet and social media, the interest in Natural Mindfulness is starting to grow on a global scale and I sense that the next chapter in my story is just around the corner.
Ian Banyard is a Natural Mindfulness Life Guide who is passionate about exploring nature and empowering people. To join Ian on his next Natural Mindfulness Walk, or to get in touch visit his website www.naturalmindfulness.uk
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