FEBRUARY/MARCH 2007

Reflections on Ecopsychology
—John Davis

Ecopsychology develops the interface of the human psyche and the natural world with an emphasis on psychology and a particular view of connectedness in human– nature relationships. The term is rooted in Robert Greenway’s classes at Sonoma State College (now University), Steven Foster and Meredith Little’s work in “primitive ecopsychology” in their School of Lost Borders (i.e., wilderness rites of passage and an earth-based model of human nature using the four directions and four seasons), and Ted Roszak’s detailed exploration, The Voice of the Earth: An Exploration of Ecopsychology (1992, Simon & Schuster), followed by his anthology (with Mary Gomes and Alan Kanner), Ecopsychology (1995, Sierra Club).

SOURCES OF ECOPSYCHOLOGY

I came to ecopsychology in a couple of different ways early in my career, long before I had heard the word. Just out of grad school, I was connecting my interests in clinical psychology, relaxation training, biofeedback, and altered states of consciousness by teaching stress management. As I looked at how I managed my own stress, I found that time in nature was powerful for me, whether it was gardening, hanging out in nearby open space, or backpacking. At the same time, I taught a course at The Naropa Institute (now University) called “Rock-Climbing as a Way of Personal Growth.” We climbed the cliffs near Boulder, Colorado, and then reflected on our experiences. I now recognize this course as an impulse toward healing and transformation in nature, a sense that the deeply intimate and highly salient contact with the natural world experienced while hanging on to a rock face above a hundred feet of empty space can be healing, growthful, and even mystical. That work shifted toward a more contemplative mode in my work with wilderness rites of passage and the vision fast ceremony, work which continues to inspire me. Rather than a stronger self-image through challenge and success (which is admirable and important work), this form fosters a sense of coming home to oneself and the world.

In the 1970s and 1980s, I was also doing a lot of work and teaching on issues related to nuclear war. As the Cold War ended and the “Doomsday Clock” inched back from near-midnight, environmental issues began to stand out as an overriding concern. I turned to environmental psychology for tools to shift consciousness about the environment and to promote environmentally sustainable attitudes and behaviors. I was disappointed by the reductionist orientation of most environmental psychology, although I did find bright spots. However, the rise of ecopsychology and deep ecology were much more exciting (Seed J, Macy J, Fleming P, Naess A, Thinking Like a Mountain: Toward a Council of All Beings, 1988, New Society Publishers). Roszak’s The Voice of the Earth clarified what I had been looking for, a call to shift the basis of environmental action from fear, blame, and sacrifice to love of the Earth. Since our concept of the human–nature relationship is fundamental to environmental behavior, a deeper look is necessary. Developing our bond with the Earth, rather than invoking anxiety and shame, is crucial for promoting attitudes and behaviors in service to the Earth. These, then, are the two sources of ecopsychology: the healing and transformative potential of direct contact with the natural world and the need to shift environmental action to more psychologically sophisticated, effective, and sustainable environmental action.

THREE INSIGHTS

I see three insights at the core of ecopsychology. The first is that humans are connected to the natural world in a profound and emotionally potent way. For the most part, our culture sees nature as a danger to be controlled or a commodity to be used. Even environmental organizations see nature as an object, albeit one which should be conserved and preserved for the future. Ecopsychology goes further with two metaphors for human–nature relationships: nature as family and nature as self. In the nature-asfamily image, we talk about nature as sibling or parent (Mother Earth, Brother Coyote), and we speak of nature as Home, i.e., where a family lives. Environmental action is then based on caring, as one cares for family members. In the nature-as-self image, we cite the Gaia Hypothesis, i.e., the Earth as an organism of which we are parts, and we hold the natural world as a larger psyche which incorporates our individual psyches. From this metaphor, environmental action can be seen as a kind of self-regulation; environmental action is the Earth acting on its own behalf.

The second insight is that the illusion of a disconnection of humans from nature has negative consequences, both for the environment and for our own mental health. Paul Shepard’s seminal book, Nature and Madness (1982, Sierra Club), and Richard Louv’s recent book, Last Child in the Woods: Saving our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder (2005, Algonquin), express this insight, as do many other ecopsychological writings.

The third insight is that a reconnection is possible. Toward this end, ecopsychology supports a wide range of practices for connecting directly with the natural world. Noteworthy are awareness practices that incorporate the natural world, ecotherapy, wilderness therapy, wilderness-based rites of passage, nature-based ritual and shamanic practices, and environmental restoration based on the view that as we heal the Earth, we heal ourselves.

Ecotherapy is especially relevant to clinical and counseling psychologists. I see two mutually supportive aspects of ecotherapy. One brings the healing potential of nature into the therapist’s office. A wealth of empirical research supports the hypothesis that contact with nature reduces stress, increases mental health, and promotes peak experiences and personal transformation. The other aspect is the opportunity to deal directly with environmental grief, anxiety, rage, and despair. These issues may rarely be explicit in the clinical setting, but they still shape our experience of ourselves, others, and the world. I agree with James Hillman and others who argue that individual mental health is inseparable from issues of social, political, economic, and environmental justice. The therapist’s office is one venue in which such issues can be addressed.

THREE CHALLENGES

So, what now? I see three challenges at the forefront of ecopsychology. The first is both theoretical and empirical. The literature on nature and mental health is strong and rich. However, there is less research and theory on environmental action. What is needed, in my view, is a thorough understanding of the developmental spectrum of human–nature relationships. How are our metaphors of human–nature relationships (e.g., nature as danger, useful commodity, family, or self) related to the development of ecological identity, and how are they related to environmental action? Since our view of nature is intimately connected with our actions, this is a fundamental question for environmental sustainability. There is good work already being done in this area, and it should be supported and furthered.

The second challenge is what Andy Fisher in his very important book, Radical Ecopsychology (2002, SUNY Press), has called the Critical Task. Ecopsychology needs to think critically about the assumptions of the dominant culture. Is it possible to sustain the environment in a world dominated by expansion, ever-increasing production and consumption, and the demands of capitalism? How can we move forward toward a more sustainable culture and economic system? Furthermore, we cannot respond effectively to environmental problems without also dealing with humanto- human injustice. Ecopsychology needs to find itself in relation to social movements related to race, gender, age, and class.

TRANSPERSONAL DIMENSIONS

Borrowing a phrase from Maslow, I feel the third challenge is pursuing the farther reaches of ecopsychology. Many ecopsychologists approach the Earth with profound reverence and seem drawn to its spiritual potential, but this aspect of ecopsychology has been hampered by the lack of a sophisticated conceptual framework for these dimensions. Here, I think transpersonal psychology can contribute much. I have written about the transpersonal dimensions of ecopsychology in The Humanistic Psychologist (1998, “The transpersonal dimensions of ecopsychology: Nature, nonduality, and spiritual practice,” 26: 60–100), and I continue to feel that the development of a transpersonal ecopsychology is its most interesting contribution in the long run.

While ecopsychology has flirted with nature-based spirituality, it has rarely articulated the connections between psyche, nature, and spirit clearly and robustly. Ecopsychology has the potential to reveal psyche and nature as expressions of the same whole and to reveal our deepest environmental sentiments as essentially spiritual. I propose that ecopsychology be deepened to a view that both includes and transcends the nature-as-family and nature-as-self metaphors, recognizing a fundamental nonduality in which both nature and psyche flow as expressions of the same ground of being. This is not simply a reciprocity between humans and nature, nor merely a broadening of the self to include the natural world, though it includes both. Rather, it is a call for transpersonal levels of development, an identification with being, spirit, or the Mystery which gives rise to all manifestations, human and nature. As the Zen teacher John Daido Loori Roshi wrote in a workshop description, “There is no possibility of a relationship between humans and nature.” Indeed, it’s a koan.

JOHN DAVIS, Ph.D., directs Naropa University’s low-residency MA in Transpersonal Psychology program (which includes a concentration in Ecopsychology). He is on the staff of the School of Lost Borders where he leads wilderness vision fast retreats and trains guides, and he is an ordained teacher of the Diamond Approach of A. H. Almaas. John is a long-time member of ATP. www.johnvdavis.com

2nd Cover Story:

HEALING HUMANKIND’S DISSOCIATIONFROM NATURE . . . Mark A. Schroll