With every species that goes extinct, we lose our profound connection to a world in which we intrinsically belong
“Dr Tina Fields suggests that while walking on the Earth, envision each step you take as a gentle kiss between the soles of your feet or your shoes and the Earth. Embrace this notion of one kiss at a time. Now, carry this mindful walking approach with you as you traverse through life”
Freediving and the mammalian reflex
I am an amateur free diver. Free diving is diving in the ocean without oxygen support. What that means is that through a series of processes that you get taught (or re-taught as this knowledge is stored in our biological unconscious), you learn how to connect with your body, hold your breath, equalise and dive. To listen to your body, you need to be connected to your body as it is your primal connection to nature. The first thing you learn about free diving is that your body is naturally adapted to cold water. This adaptation is called the mammalian diving reflex – all mammals’ bodies react similarly. This reflex gets activated when you hold your breath and submerge your face in the cold water. It slows down your heart rate, and constricts or tightens the blood vessels in the arms, hands, legs, and feet. It distributes oxygen stores to the heart, brain, and lungs. It has an oxygen-conserving effect that helps you hold your breath for longer when diving, but is actually your body stepping in to assist with your survival. It can be observed in mammals such as seals, otters, dolphins, diving birds, penguins. Once you have dived, you need to know how many contractions your body can sustain before you need to reach for the surface, and be careful to not fall into the trap of thinking you can stay underwater forever. Freediving is a powerful teacher of your relationship with wild nature, your connection to your body, your limitations and your fears.
On a symbolic level, freediving represents diving into my individual and collective unconscious, allowing me to explore my sense of belonging in the ocean and my relationship with water. Our bodies, composed of approximately 70% water, connect our internal rivers and streams with those of the world. Through the expression of tears, both of joy and sadness, we release water from our bodies. Water is our first home, as we develop in the womb of our mothers where water represents life and renewal. Reflecting on water’s relevance to mental well-being, I perceive our mental state as a river—a dynamic entity in constant motion, adaptation, and change. At times, the river flows swiftly, offering visibility into the depths of our psyche, while at other times, it becomes murkier, necessitating deeper exploration. Our mental river may encounter obstacles to navigate, and it can teem with life or appear barren. To attain mental well-being, it is crucial to recognise that happiness, sadness, and all emotions in between are not meant to be constant, as water should continuously flow. Without water there is no life.
Cold water swimming and the euphoria
Apart from freediving I also really enjoy cold water swimming. It has been shown improve physical and mental health. Dr Mark Harper (2022 Book called Chill: the cold water swim cure) says that it improves overall health and well-being across three important areas namely reorientation, transformation, and connection. Consistent cold water swimming has the ability to reduce blood pressure, inflammation, chronic pain and helps with weight loss, better sleep, greater resilience, and a more engaged and optimistic outlook. Putting your face in cold water can activate the parasympathetic branch of the nervous system, which prompts the body to relax after a stressful event. This may help people feel calm and reduce inflammation.
I vividly remember the first time I naively splashed into a tidal pool for the first time in Cape Town. It was mere 16 degrees and it felt like the cold punched me in the chest and then grabbed onto every fibre of my being and it wouldn’t let go. The gasp, followed by cold water catatonia (inability to move normally) was a sensation I had never experienced before. A short while after my soul returned to my body and I heard two Oyster catchers mumbling something about me in the background (yes, I sometimes feel like animals are gossiping about me). Waves were peeping over the edge of the pool, my body started to feel warm and light. The soft gentle motion of the water was strangely soothing and soon I was hugged by an all-encompassing sense of contentment. I wondered if this is what it felt like in my mother’s womb? My favourite cold water experiences include the profound connection I feel to the ocean and my inner life force, the inability to think about anything else in that moment except for being in the water, and slow release of euphoria that lasts long after exiting the water’s embrace.
Hiking and the noticing
One of my most incredible life experiences occurred in the heart of the iMfolozi game reserve, rain seeping through my clothes, as I immersed myself in the symphony of distant leopards. Whenever I am in iMfolozi, I feel a profound sense of belonging, with my only possessions carried on my back and my senses heightened. Navigating through the wilderness demands respect, authenticity, a healthy curiosity, and a keen awareness of caution. While I am undeniably awed by the majestic lions, leopards, elephants, and rhinos, it is the smaller inhabitants of these wild spaces that captivate my fascination. Observing the intricate battles between dung beetles, ants, and ticks, each diligently pursuing their purpose, and witnessing snakes leaving their marks as they share shelter with other species—it all fills me with wonder and awe.
I derive immense joy from embarking on multi-day hikes that push the limits of my being. Growing up in Johannesburg, my youth was spent in front of the TV, engrossed in shows like the Mickey Mouse Club. Consequently, hiking now, where I can marvel at a glimpse of slime mould on a steep incline while pondering life’s questions and gasping for breath simultaneously, brings me great fulfilment. Sometimes, I struggle to hear the birdsong above the sound of my heavy breathing. Despite my childhood being coloured by city living, my love for nature and animals took root at an early age. I was fortunate to visit my grandparents’ smallholding, where I found joy in connecting with animals. I vividly recall the weekend I got lost, triggering a search party’s hours-long quest. Throughout the day, they combed the area, fearing I had drowned in the dam or been swept away by the river. Eventually, they discovered me nestled in a hay stack, cuddled up with my grandparents’ Bernese mountain dog, Elvie, while chickens pecked around my slumbering form—an impromptu farmyard aura cleansing ceremony. Years later, I had the privilege of visiting Mabula Game Reserve multiple times, courtesy of my aunt and uncle’s timeshare. I eagerly embarked on every game drive possible, meticulously inspecting every wild animal and insect within my sight. During the night, instead of sleeping, I would prepare questions for the rangers, and I even wrote poems that expressed the underlying sadness I felt about nature being confined behind fences.
Doing Nature-connection Exercises with Kids
HUMAN-NATURE NEXUS
Lectus a sagittis malesuada posuere tristique viverra.
Our Childhood shapes our Adulthood. Those early life experiences shape our belief about ourselves, others and the world.
I became interested in the human-nature nexus, and I extended my exploration to how this relationship is shaped by childhood, sense of self, relationships with people and objects, cultural and social values, worldviews, personality, subconscious processes, and traumas. I have spoken about my work in the USA, Spain, Uruguay, and South Africa, as well as on multiple online platforms in South Africa, Italy, and Greece.
“Our wounds are often the openings into the best and most beautiful part of us.”
“Our wounds are often the openings into the best and most beautiful part of us.”
With an estimated 60-70% of people living in urban areas by 2030, it is crucial to conserve nature and animals in these spaces too. This conservation is not only beneficial for their well-being but also for ours.
