Conscious Humanity, No. 103
Wild creature mind, practising delight, strength in stories, a season for rest, and more...
Welcome to the 103rd edition of Conscious Humanity — it’s so good to see you here!
Below are seven things that have made my life better in the last two weeks. They’re formatted so you can scan through and dive deeper into what resonates most with you.
I offer them not as noise, but as nourishment. May at least one thing brighten your day, inspire you to take action, or help you return to what matters most.
Wild Creature Mind
Firstly, I’ve been skim-reading Wild Creature Mind by Steve Biddulph this week and while the information in it wasn’t brand new to me, sometimes things land differently when you see them presented in a new way. In it, psychologist and author, Steve Biddulph challenges the simplistic notion that the left brain is purely logical (and male), and the right brain is emotional (and female). Instead, drawing heavily on the work of neuroscientist Dr. Iain McGilchrist, he explains:
“We have our normal mind, overthinking, rattling about, getting defensive. And our Wild Creature Mind - full of life, intelligence, sensitivity and connection. Where our capacity to love, care, and co-operate can heal and guide us.
But our Wild Creature Mind is silent, it speaks only through sensations down the midline of our body, as "felt sense" subtle, fresh and specific. You're feeling them right now, as you read this, and every second of your life. They are the way that animals organise and direct their actions, and their acute sensitivity and power. We just forgot they were there.”
Of course, there are many cultures, religions and philosophies that have not disconnected from this innate wisdom (or at least not as much), so this might be old news to you!
When I started reading the book, I expected to find some useful insights about managing anxiety, or developing my creative practices, but as often happens, something completely different grabbed my attention: the section on setting boundaries. I’ve had some personal breakthroughs around setting personal boundaries lately, which I’m not quite ready to share here yet (maybe I will soon…) and the process of tuning into my “wild creature mind” helped me recognise other areas of life where I could set stronger boundaries.
A very simplified strategy for tapping into your wild creature mind is below, but if you want to follow this thread further, the book explains it in much more detail:
“Tuning into your felt sense starts with locating it…”
Before you start, take a deep breath and think of something or someone. Steve suggests starting by thinking of two people, like two of your children, or parents, or other significant people.
Go through the below process for each person, one at a time.
Start with the phrase (say it out loud or to yourself): ‘There is something in me…’
Is it high or low in your torso, your throat, or around your head or legs?
Is it more to the front, back or middle of your body (is it hard or soft?)
Does it have a shape? (cylindrical, hard edges, cloudy, undefined, etc)
What is happening around your heart region?
Once you’ve found it , try out some words that describe the quality or nature of the feeling, e.g. ‘aching, falling away, pulsating, locked up, tightening, etc.
It takes practice to get both minds talking to each other and your first attempts to locate your wild creature mind may feel odd or like they’ve failed.
But, keep trying! You’re not inventing something, you’re becoming aware of it and starting to interact with it.
Practising Delight
Another thing Steve Biddulph mentions in his book is that if we stay in that Wild Creature body sensation mode, we can “allow happiness to ripple into our darkest corners” which gives us a nice little segue into practising delight!
I’ve been loving the On Being podcast ‘Hope Portal’ series because it offers short snippets of wisdom that keep me thinking as I continue through my day. The final episode featured insights from poet, community gardener and teacher, Ross Gay, who wrote The Book of Delights (and several other books too).
In her opening comments, Krista Tippet (the podcast host) explains how she feels when she hears a question like, “How could you be joyful in a moment like this, in a world like this?”
She explains:
“And this question troubles me because it suggests that joy is a privilege. But joy in human life is a resilience making, life giving birthright of being human. And to suggest that you can't be joyful in a time like this is akin to the idea that you can't be hopeful unless everything has gone right for you.”
And as she and Ross discuss, joy lives alongside grief and loss in life. You can’t choose to experience only the good bits! But orienting ourselves to noticing small moments of delight can help us get through the darker times.
“A suggested practice for developing your delight radar is to notice very small moments that inspire joy in you: as you move through your smallest interactions, look for moments/sightings/experiences that bring flashes of light into your day. It could be small things like watching two people share the load of carrying shopping bags down the street, picking herbs from your garden for dinner, or watching the delightful way a friend uses hand gestures.”
For me, this practice helps me come back to the present moment and appreciate what I have when my brain has wandered into the land of worries (about what I don’t have, or haven’t achieved, or bad things that might happen).
What little things have delighted you this week?
Strength in Stories
Changing tack now. It was National NAIDOC week here in Australia between the 6th and 13th of July, to celebrate and recognise the history, culture and achievements of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples. So, I took the opportunity to immerse myself in some of the Indigenous stories that flooded my inbox and social media feed, and a standout was a 2013 film recommended by The Uluru Statement from the Heart team, Charlie's Country (free on ABC iView), starring the late David Gulpilil. It’s a fictional story, co-written by David Gulpilil and Rolf de Heer, but it is a genuine reflection of the day-to-day experiences of David himself, and other Indigenous Australians grappling with the Northern Territory government’s intervention. I don’t think I’ve seen a more compelling portrait of inequality and ongoing prejudices in Australia, and the miscommunications between cultures that are at times funny, but most often tragic.
Gulpilil plays Charlie, a Yolngu man in his sixties in Arnhem Land, who goes bush to live in “the old ways” in protest of inadequate government provisions, and after the police confiscate his hunting rifle and spear. But challenging wet weather means he ends up in Darwin hospital with a respiratory infection. After a series of other misfortunes in Darwin, including a short stint in prison, Charlie comes back to his Country and re-engages with his community.
The film is intentionally slow and powerful, and Gulpilil’s performance as Charlie, is absolutely captivating. I laughed and cried throughout, but be warned, there is no great triumph for Charlie at the end; just small wins for land and culture in the midst of broken “whitefella laws” that persist.
Alongside the human stories it highlights, this film also captures stunning Yolngu country in all its wonder. I recommend watching with headphones on so you get the full sensory experience, including the sounds of wind rushing past grasses and trees, insects buzzing, birds singing, fires crackling, and more.
Because one thing leads to another, I found Still Our Country, where you can witness more stunning Yolngu country and what it means to its people:
“We Yolngu, we belong to our country and our country belongs to us.
Our country makes us strong.”
Right Story, Wrong Story
Continuing with an Indigenous theme, one of the most joyful, robust, and comforting things I’ve started listening to this week is the audio book version of Right Story, Wrong Story by Tyson Yunkaporta.
While Tyson and I work at the same institution, I have never spoken to him and can only claim to have walked past him once, in awe, when I was working at NIKERI (Deakin’s Indigenous Knowledges Education Research Innovation Institute). But somehow, hearing him narrate Right Story, Wrong Story with his laid back voice and trademark humour, feels personal. The chapters are woven together in a sequence of thought experiments, designed to be as close as possible to the Aboriginal collective process of “yarning.” The stories within explore what we can learn from Indigenous thinking, and how our relationship with the land is inseparable from how we relate to each other. It’s an extension of Tyson’s first book, Sand Talk (a book I go back to often). To give you a taste of his style, this is how the very first story, The Wrong Canoe, starts:
“Hello my sibling.
Did you know that male echidnas have four penises?
Now, if I were as smart as an echidna, I would could use that factoid to come up with an evolutionary theory about male dominance. And project it onto my own species, and then sell a truckload of books. It’s not really a fact though. He only has one grotesque dick with four heads and his mate probably doesn’t want that horrible thing anywhere near either of her vaginas.
I couldn’t deliberately misinform you like that for profit.
You and I have the same mother.
You’re standing on her right now.
So it would be unthinkable for me to deploy some pseudo-scientific influencer trickery to twist your mind and ruin your life, just so I could make some money.
Us two are related.
We have plenty in common that we can build on to strengthen our relationship here. As we journey through a suite of pathologies that need some attention before we destroy the world with our dysfunction.
Even if you don’t have the same disorders as me, you probably belong to a culture that does. Unless of course, you come from a healthy culture, in which case your land has almost certainly been invaded by an unhealthy one that will break you soon anyway.
Either way, we both need to work on our issues, because no tree burns alone...”
As Tyson goes on to explain, his book won’t save the world, but it contains some jokes and horror stories, and a few attempts at good sense that will hopefully prove “to future alien archaeologists… that most homo sapiens were not stupid, greedy bastards; we just had very bad bosses.”
While parts of the above quote might sound crazy or too dark, it’s not (to me, anyway). The book holds opposing views and stories, with sensitivity and nuance, and encourages healing together, even though it will “hurt like hell.”
I could tell you more, but I’m going to keep listening and might bring you more insights soon. In the meantime, I highly recommend having a read or listen yourself!
Crown Shyness (aka, personal space for trees)
To natural wonders now, and as a self-professed nature nerd, I can’t believe I’ve only just found out about a thing called “crown shyness” which is a phenomenon where tree canopies refuse to touch.
As Geometry in Nature explained,
“Crown shyness appears in forests worldwide, from eucalyptus groves to certain oak and pine species across different continents. When you stand beneath these canopies and look up, the sky becomes visible through perfectly defined pathways, as if someone carefully carved geometric patterns into the green ceiling above.”
Research suggests a variety of reasons for crown shyness, including preventing spread of leaf-eating insect larvae, reducing potential damage when they collide with each other in windy weather, and shade avoidance.
This gorgeous video by National Geographic photographer and writer, Michael George shows crown shyness in action…
…and this photo freezes the phenomenon in time.
So, next time you’re out bushwalking, look up and see what shapes you can find.
A Season for Rest
Now, how about a rest?
Christine Newell, author of Five Seasons in Seoul, wrote about winter as a season of rest and replenishment in her latest newsletter.
While avoiding all work and commitments when it’s cold outside is very tricky, giving yourself permission to rest is still important. Christine included this lovely quote from psychologist and author, Nicola Jane Hobbs:
“Instead of asking, ‘Have I worked hard enough to deserve rest?’, I’ve started asking, ‘Have I rested enough to do my most loving, meaningful work?’”
When did you last give yourself permission to rest?
A Final Thought
Parents for Climate recently shared this lovely quote from American Indigenous ecologist and writer, Robin Wall Kimmerer, which picks up several of the threads we’ve already explored here today:
"Joanna Macy writes that until we can grieve for our planet we cannot love it-grieving is a sign of spiritual health. But it is not enough to weep for our lost landscapes; we have to put our hands in the earth to make ourselves whole again. Even a wounded world is feeding us.
Even a wounded world holds us, giving us moments of wonder and joy. I choose joy over despair."
And I choose joy over despair too!
So, anyone up for a spot of gardening?
And that’s the end of this edition! I hope at least one thing brightened your day, inspired you to take action, or helped you return to what matters most.
🙏🏻
Thank you for the mention.