To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug. — Helen Keller
Twenty-eight citizen scientists from Florida, North Carolina and several other states traveled to the Amazon jungle for eight days in July. Mission: to document defoliation in the canopy for science, and to contribute knowledge of insect biodiversity for conservation. But the overarching, and unexpected, benefit was the inspiration and pure joy of unplugging technology.
Absolute bliss was redefined: 1. hearing bird songs without traffic in the background; 2. talking thoughtfully to people without interruptive ringtones; 3. absorbing the smells and sights of a tropical jungle; and 4. turning off those over-stressed circuits in our brains that respond 24/7 to bells, lights, and texting; and 5. absence of anxiety attacks caused by multi-tasking in our technology-driven world.
Our home away from home, the complex tropical rain forest, provided us with enormous creature comforts — fresh water, oxygen, fish, fruits, medicines, fabrics, construction materials, and climate control — to name but a few. But for our unsuspecting group of community leaders and students, the absolute absence of technology was one of the jungle’s best gifts. In our material world of trappings that constantly nag at our pocketbooks, we often forget about the spiritual power of Mother Nature that inspires a sense of wonder. In the Amazon jungles, we ate healthy and rekindled our five senses. As June Cussen, executive editor of Pineapple Press in Sarasota, admitted with joy, “We hugged a tree unashamedly!”
Taylor Ann Nelson, high school student from St. Petersburg, explained how she overcame her fears of the forest at night: “The first night in the jungle was when I felt truly alone. The darkness allowed my imagination to run wild. Suddenly all my senses were amplified, and an ancient hunter instinct washed over me. My blood seemed to run cold as I listened to the forest symphony around me. I registered this emotion as fear. I decided that night that I am afraid of what I cannot see and do not know, but if I can learn what I don’t know then I don’t have to fear what I can’t see.”
Five years ago Richard Louv wrote a best-selling book called “Last Child in the Woods,” which decried our American lifestyle of keeping children indoors and depriving them of the natural world. He explained that kids who play outside actually have higher SAT scores and less tendency for Attention Deficit Disorder.
In the Amazon, we observed local boys quietly paddling at sunrise, knowing exactly where to catch piranha for breakfast. Girls creatively wove carry-bags and carved jewelry. These practices, sometimes labeled “primitive” by our developed world, were carried out in one of Earth’s most beautiful settings — no auto-pollution or highway rush-hour, no asthma from dirty air-conditioning ducts, no hormones in the chicken, and no insecticides on the fruit.
Granted, there are other challenges that include career advancement and access to wi-fi; for better or for worse, Diet Coke and potato chips were nonexistent. But all of us felt privileged to learn from the locals about how to live better. If one were to apply a Happiness Index, the families in the Amazon jungle would win out over many suburban households in America.
We came home much wiser — not only with new knowledge about the scientific secrets of the Amazon forest canopy, but also how to live our lives more fully with Mother Nature as our mentor.
Meg Lowman, a longtime Sarasota-based scientist and educator, is chief of science and sustainability at the California Academy of Sciences.
Originally posted in the Sarasota Herald-Tribune.