Fresh Air, Fresh Words

I've begun writing again this last week (thank goodness!), and so when I stumbled across this poignant article this morning, I felt it rather apt for the day.

How many of us write indoors, at our computer, surrounded by walls and ceiling and distractions in the way of Facebook and email and instant messaging?

How many of us suffer from an inability to really concentrate when we're working?

Carol Kaufmann of the New York Times penned "Time to Write? Go Outside", an article all about the research done on how fresh air and natural environments aid the brain when working.

Of course when you really think about it, this makes perfect sense. It's been scientifically proven that sunlight and vitamin D do more than just help our brains think-- it's good for your overall mood as well. Fluorescent lights (and a lack of sunshine and fresh air) have actually been linked with forms of mild depression and even eye strain. There's no substitute for a natural environment and some good old R&R.

"Back in the 1970s, two pioneering environmental psychologists, Rachel and Stephen Kaplan, began investigating nature’s healing effect on the mind. Decades later, their studies concluded that connections with nature could help us shirk mental fatigue, restore drifting attention and sharpen thinking. Even in an urban environment, a little green stimulates our senses, they report."

In addition to that, though, Kaufmann points out several compelling arguments in favor of natural scenery as a benefit to creative thought. When indoors we're surrounded by a million and one different distractions and tasks that we can't get our minds off of...not really anyway. The only way to escape, to focus, is to get out somewhere, where it's just you and your thoughts and your senses.

"The author and journalist Richard Louv has thought a lot about technological distractions: 'easier to write outside not only because of nature’s direct impact, but because of the absence of so many distractions, most of them technological.' [Nothing is harder than] writing with only a partial mind, because our mind lies in too many different realms...Bad handwriting can always be transcribed; jumbled thoughts are a devil to untwist."

Kaufmann describes that

"Nothing coaxes jumbled thoughts into coherent sentences like sitting under a shade tree on a pleasant day. With a slight breeze blowing, birds chirping melodies, wee bugs scurrying around me and a fully charged laptop or yellow legal pad at hand, I know I’ll produce my best work."

I for one am inclined to agree. I never feel calmer, more relaxed, and more mentally stimulated than when I'm deep in the mountains or surrounded by trees. It's like I can feel myself taking root in the air and color around me, drawing from a rather sublime understanding that I am incredibly small, leaving plenty of room for my wrangling story or thoughts to grow in.

"Nature immersion also helps us feel alive. Another series of studies published in the Journal of Environmental Psychology in 2010 concluded that being in nature made people feel energetic and less lethargic, all essential ingredients for writing stories that exude telling details and narrative tension. After all, you just can’t tell a good story when half asleep."

This is because our mind is made up of so much more than grey mushy matter. Why do you think you can write better when listening to music, when lying on an incredibly soft blanket or curiously textured carpet, when smelling a delicious waft from the kitchen or cafe next door, while snacking? It's because the brain is as integrally tied to our senses as our body, and the body will invariably help the mind work better. Sound, visual triggers, scent, touch, taste-- all of these help focus or even inspire the mind.

"'Most people think of the mind as being located in the head,”'writes Diane Ackerman in A Natural History of the Senses, 'but the latest findings in physiology suggest that the mind doesn’t really dwell in the brain but travels the whole body on caravans of hormone and enzyme, busily making sense of the compound wonders we catalogue as touch, taste, smell, hearing, vision.'"
 

Do you have a hammock? A patio? A wheelbarrow? Get your pad of paper or your portable laptop and go outside. Get fresh air. See the sunlight for the first time all week. Stretch out under a tree or in your favorite porch bench and let your mind focus on something other than technological barriers or indoor distractions. Look out into the sky and image how far it is you're actually seeing. All those miles and light years and vast spaces.

Now fill it up. Write.