I can remember as a child having a 10-minute walk from the house to my elementary school building. Getting to school involved traveling on a blacktopped path, fenced in on both sides, through a wooded area that had defied development. We entered from a cul-de-sac, and the entrance of the path had houses with bright colors and we smelled flowers. The path descended down through undeveloped wooded land, sloped slightly down to the bottom then flattened out. It ascended a hill to come out into the schoolyard. I probably had more experiences on that path, than I can remember from my grammar school classes.
We had experiences of how our bodies felt, which years later I recognized as somatic experiences. We would stop for a minute where the path flattened out to look into the woods and to watch nature. We listened to the birds, made snowballs and threw them. We stomped in the puddles, slid down the icy hill, before facing the reality of the schoolyard. We stopped to gossip, to harmlessly tease and grab a friend’s hat. Or chase a friend up the hill to the schoolyard.
On an icy morning, the boys would deliberately fall down on the hill and push each other. The children played physically: body-slammed, bounced, fell, and arrived at school with their snow suits caked in snow. We had to step carefully to avoid the mud in the spring. We would pause in the fall to be astonished by a brilliantly colored fallen red leaf on the path, but we couldn’t dawdle too much and arrive late.
Many sensory, cognitive learning and proprioceptive inputs filled the early morning walk to school. We climbed the hill with our book bags, bouncing into the fence at times attempting to climb it. The fence’s construction had some give in it, and it moved if your body slammed it. We elbowed one another up the path as more kids came to walk with us to avoid being left behind the group. We grasped and pulled on the fence down the hill to not slide or fall. We stepped carefully to avoid puddles, (or to make sure you landed in one). We strategized our upward climb to arrive without falling.
Our walk provided a somatically rich morning, socially, cognitively, and in movement. Being in nature quieted our minds naturally before the school day started. We had ample opportunities to work out our stress physically. We arrived at school feeling our bodies. There was the inner warmth of arms and leg muscles that had exercised up the hill. The walk provided our senses with treasured experiences. We had seen real colors in nature, smelled the woods, and possibly tasted snowflakes.
My own childhood experiences inspired me to provide ample outside activities for my family. As a therapist, I would use outside play as much as possible, inviting families to meet me at the playground modeling to parents this type of play. Often, a parent would think their child was incapable of navigating the swings or slide, only to discover an enthusiastic and capable child. Often, it was the parent who was holding back out of a sense of protectiveness. Once the parent could see how able the child was, they were more eager and open to more vigorous outside play.
These lovely nature and social experiences for children are priceless. But for many, they may not be available. The concern over violence has changed the way we live, and we are not as carefree as we once were. I wouldn’t let my grammar school child walk unattended through a wooded area nowadays. However, we can certainly try to duplicate these outside nature experiences. Many parents do carefully plan outside time. Unfortunately, for many children, there is a lack of outside experiences. Yet, it is so important to have these sensory nature experiences, such as hiking, sledding, tubing and nature events, or a walk to school.
But for many children, it is more common to go from watching a screen to the bus, to watch another screen possibly, to the class where there are also computers and then back home to a screen. It has now been noted that children are spending up to seven hours a day on screens, according to a new Kaiser Foundation study. The children in that study also appear to have lower grades in school.
I can remember an interaction with a well-meaning parent. She wanted to know if I thought she should allow her five-year-old to play outside immediately upon returning from school. The mother was concerned the child should finish her homework first. I explained the positive sensory impact of being outside in nature. After a stressful day at school, outside play for a five-year-old is healing for the brain. Children perform better with a physical break after school.
For many children, nature experiences aren’t part of the fabric of living. For those children fortunate enough to spend time outside, parents often over schedule activities. The result is that children have less and less down time or unstructured play. There isn’t enough of an outlet for our children’s stress in everyday living. When outside time, gym, recess or afterschool activities, are eliminated we are left with fewer options to neutralize the effects of all those screens.
My concern for children’s dwindling nature opportunities led me to explore how yoga and mindfulness might help reverse this. We can bring back nature and somatic experiences instead of spinning off-course with the stress of living daily. The activities in this book can be done at home, in classrooms and clinics.
• When your child or teen is having a difficult time, it can be very helpful to get out in nature and clear the mind with a walk. Staying in the present moment, while being in nature, is a healing activity for the mind and body. It gives young people time to take a break from electronic devices, get oxygen to the brain, and move the physical body. Optimal places are: a park, a playground, forest, mountain, lake, the ocean, a college campus or a trail. If you can’t access nature then this can also be done on a city street. Biking is also an option. If there is no access to nature just get out and walk as you can. Trust your own intuition and what you feel attracted to on your walk. Stop to notice trees, sounds, water, flowers, birds or dogs. Allow the mind that is over-thinking or is in disharmony to open to the space around you.
• Make a point not to discuss problems with your child during this time. Allow the child to initiate talking. This may or may not happen and either way it’s ok. The key point is to stay in the present moment without any goals.
• Allow your child the safe space to feel comfortable being in his or her body while doing this active exercise.
• Creating an activity that a child and an adult can do together without words (resonating in tune with one another silently) is very supportive for the child or teen. By letting go of the need to talk, we get nourishment from nature and silence. Use this opportunity to allow the mind, body, and the individual cells to regain balance and nourishment from nature.
• Tune into the body as you walk, noticing how your feet hit the ground, how your body is feeling.
• After significant exercise, stop and rest in the silence that is created.
• Make an effort to respect and allow for the silence.
• If your child wants to be quiet, avoid initiating nervous chatter.
• Use the mindfulness practices. Your teen will notice the state of calm you are experiencing, as you practice acceptance, and non-judgment.
• If your child speaks, just listen and be appropriate in response.
• Hold the stillness of the moment. This is meditation in action. The mind becomes quiet on its own from physical exercise and from shifting the focus from thinking to the breath.
• While walking, use the time to watch your breath as you inhale and exhale. A simple way to do this is to focus your attention on the air as it comes in and out of your nose. When you experience resistance to doing this, just notice your resistance and gently bring the focus back to the breath.
• It isn’t necessary to try to talk. Be in nature and allow the outside physical exercise to naturally calm the child’s nervous system. Also, don’t try to instruct your teenager in this method. Just being in nature together is enough. If the adult concentrates on their breathing, this will also support the teen energetically.
Being in nature for fun, to quiet my mind and get in touch with my feelings is a common way for me to spend time living in a small town in the mountains. When she was younger, I would often take my moody child walking in the woods. As a parent, I frequently made the mistake of asking questions at the wrong time when it would have been better to remain silent. The questioning would shut the conversation down. When I simply repeat a mantra, remained contented, relaxed, and focused on my breathing, my child would start to talk to me. Practicing “breathing into stillness”, and time in nature allowed us to have better communication. (See Chapter 5)