in which the author runs an experiment that leads to a rueful experience

I'm reading a book called _Drawing Closer to Nature_ by Peter London. It's all about art and Nature and stuff, and in the beginning he tells a story about a class that he teaches wherein people take partners and take turns wandering around in the woods for five minutes at a time with their eyes closed. The point is to experience things with your other senses. He says that a lot of people find that it scares them to be in the woods with their eyes shut, and I was totally flummoxed. It never even occured to me that people might be freaked out by shutting their eyes in the woods (because they can't see anything, so they can't run from anything). I have my own fears, of course; when it comes to woods, I'm more scared of other people in the forest than animals, even rabid ones. You know, drunken, crazy rednecks hunting out of season or something like that.

But then I thought, maybe I've never really tried this exercise, I should try it, maybe I just never noticed before. So I went into a part of the woods near my town where I have only been once before, and I sat on a rock next to a brook and shut my eyes and felt absolutely fine. Listened to leaves falling through the canopy, almost like footsteps--that didn't freak me out. An owl made a long call that started out sounding like a kid screaming ten feet away, but then trailed off into hooting noises. That didn't bother me (though it did startle me, it was really LOUD. I thought, wow, this is a test! Because it only called once the entire time I was there, and only while I had my eyes closed). Everything seemed normal to me.

After a while I opened my eyes and just quietly sat; not trying to be perfectly still, just being quiet. Soon the animals that were disturbed by my arrival began to rustle around again; and birds began to call, a mouse scuttled in an arc around my position, within eight feet or so of my rock--running, hiding, running, hiding, making its trip in short spurts until it disappeared completely. If you sit there long enough, the dent you made in the fabric of the forest just springs back and everybody goes about their business as if you didn't exist (there's stuff to do, after all). Presumably, I mean. All that business about the presence of the observer changing the behavior of the observed...who knows what animals get up to when nobody's around? If a tree falls in the forest, yada yada.

Walking back up to the road, I must have had my eyes shut still, because all of a sudden I found myself in a patch of poison ivy! Gack. I don't think I'm allergic. Probably not. I'd know by now, right? Ahem. I must've walked right through it last week, too, so I'm really probably not allergic. Sure.

Yeesh. That would sure help me Draw Closer to Nature, wouldn't it?

snicker

You represent... desire.
You sure are motivated. You have a definite knack
for getting what you want. You always put your
own interests before those of others, and you
almost always find youself being satisfied.
Though you have determination, try some
compassion. Putting others first occassionally
can get you even more satisfying relationships.


What feeling do you represent?
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Choose a couple of answers about sex and look what happens.

Thanks, namasteandrogne