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Growing a Taproot in Shaky Ground The Use of Healing Gardens in Places of Suffering

Karen Shoren Strawn

2011-2013

Thesis Submitted in partial completion of

Upaya Zen Buddhist Chaplaincy Program

Upaya Zen Center Santa Fe, New Mexico

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Abstract

For 7,000+ years cultivated gardens have been growing food, medicine, and ornamental

flowers, as well as providing contemplative refuge and a place for ceremony. In this paper I

explore the contemplative setting of early Paradise gardens, Japanese & Zen rock gardens, and

medieval Christian monastic gardens. From a Western perspective, I look at historical use of

hospital gardens, theories which support the regenerative effects of being exposed to a green

space, and the current interest in gardens as a healing modality. I give an overview of the five

senses and somatic, or felt, sense as these relate to how we process the world around us. When

we are unbalanced by stress or trauma, I propose that our relationship with nature is a way to

grow depth, a metaphoric taproot, which helps support our natural capacity for resilience.

I did a small study and two interviews to examine the healing effect of a garden. The

first interview covers a form of nature therapy that Lois Hickman has developed in her practice

as an occupational therapist working with autistic spectrum children. The second study and

interview are preliminary results of a courtyard garden built in a domestic violence safe house,

with reflections on how the residents and staff have been supported by using the garden.

Paget & McCormack defined the four broad roles of a chaplain (2006, p.14-34). Through

the perspective of these four roles, I explore ways to use the sacred space of a garden in a place

of suffering, with suggested applications to the chaplain’s path of service. The appendices offer

three different design elements for a healing garden, sensory awareness exercises, and a

sampling of social activism through the medium of gardens.

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Table of Contents

Abstract………………………………………………………………...…….…2

Table of Contents…………………………………………………...……….….3

Prelude ………………………….………………………..….…….....……....…4

Introduction - Growing a Taproot…………………………….…………….......5

Chapter 1 - Historical Contemplative and Healing Gardens……………….......7

Chapter 2 - Currents Theories about the Healing Effect of Nature…...............16

Chapter 3 - Language of the Senses...................................................................24

Chapter 4 - Stress, Trauma, Grief, Secondary Trauma and Resilience.............34

Chapter 5 - Nature Therapy and Jenlo Farm......................................................44

Chapter 6 - Lavender Garden at Esperanza……………………………….…...51

Chapter 7 - Santa Fe General Hospital’s Comfort Garden.................................56

Chapter 8 - Garden as Sacred Space – The Role of a Chaplain…………….....59

Appendix A - Guidelines for Creating a Healing Garden..................................67

Appendix B - Sensory Awareness Exercises......................................................71

Appendix C - Social Action and Healing Gardens.............................................76

References...........................................................................................................81

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Prelude The Story of Gotama Awakening under the Boddhi Tree

Adapted from Nidana Katha texts in Armstrong (2001). As the story goes, Gotama sat in an asana posture, facing east, under a Boddhi tree

beside the Neranjara river on a spot now known as Bodhi Gaya. “Let my skin and sinews and

bones dry up, together with all the flesh and blood of my body. I will welcome it!” Gotama

vowed. “But I will not move from this spot until I have attained the supreme and final wisdom.”

Throughout world mythology is the symbol of the world tree, standing at the axis of the cosmos.

This Axis Mundi is the place where life and death, emptiness and plentitude, physical and

spiritual, merge and conjoin. It is a place where divine energies pour into the world, where

humanity encounters the Absolute and becomes itself more fully. Gotama sat with great strength

and determination, unmovable, under the Boddhi tree. “Buddha still had to fight those residual

forces within him which clung to an un-regenerative life and did not want the ego to die.” (p.90)

Gotama’s shadow self, Mara, appeared as a world leader with a massive army and hurled nine

fearful storms against him. Despite Mara’s overwhelming power, Gotama sat in an

unconquerable position. All the gods and goddesses who had gathered to witness Gotama’s

enlightenment fled in terror, leaving him without divine support. Mara came back once again,

demanding that Gotama prove he was worthy to sit at this pivotal center. Wanting to usurp

Gotama, Mara asked for witnesses to support his own claim to the seat. Mara’s army rose as

one voice, claiming the worthiness of Mara to take the seat. Gotama looked around, alone, with

no one to act as witness in his long preparation towards enlightenment. He reached down with

his right hand and touched the earth, begging the earth to testify to his past acts of compassion.

With a shattering roar, the earth replied “I bear you witness.” Mara vanished. Gotama awoke,

becoming a Buddha, one of many in the Buddhist lineage which stretches back into ancient times

and extends out into future generations. The Awakened One! This act of touching the earth

symbolizes Gotama’s overcoming his shadow side but also that all Buddhas are one with the

earth. There is a deep affinity between a selfless human and the earth. “It is the compassionate

Buddha who is most truly in tune with the basic laws of existence.” (p.92)

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The Zen monk Dogen wrote, “You should know that the entire Earth is not our temporary appearance but our genuine human body.” Earth, according to Dogen, is truth and speaks truth

but not always or necessarily with a human tongue. It is our body. And its voice can be heard even in a desert silence. (Halifax, 1993, p. 202)

Introduction - Growing a Taproot

As the human population approaches ten billion in the 21st century, we find ourselves in

the midst of radical environmental shifts which are having an irrevocable impact on the planet’s

diversified, intricate, and delicate web of life. Buddhist scholar and environmental activist

Joanna Macy has named this time ‘The Great Turning.” Actions taken within this century will

determine the course of life on our planet. Directly or indirectly, most of the stress and trauma in

the world today is related to an anthropocentric abuse of planetary resources. Over 50% of

humans now live in congested urban centers. Even if it were possible for a percentage of these

billions to go ‘back to the land’, doing so would destroy what remaining pockets of wilderness

are left. As water and food shortages become more pronounced, a growing number of city

dwellers are exploring ways to live a sustainable and regenerative lifestyle which includes

growing local food and creating green space within an urban setting. The international

grassroots movements towards small scale agriculture, community gardens and healing gardens

are some of the more successful efforts to educate and nourish ourselves and potentially avert the

full catastrophe we and future generations face.

Recovering from a serious illness many years ago, I began the simple mindfulness

practice of chopping wood and carrying water, which led me into building gardens and

practicing Zen Buddhism. Both of these studies have added great depth, inner resources and

beauty to my life. For my thesis project, I was drawn to study the urban niches of wildness, our

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gardens, particularly the garden in a place of suffering. I started by asking some questions. How

does a garden offer solace and connection, to both us as chaplains and those we serve? Can we

consciously use the garden or green space to self-regulate by developing our sensory awareness

and capacity for resilience? As Buddhist spiritual care providers in the front lines of the suffering

of individuals and institutions, how does a relationship with the natural world inform our

practice?

Digging deeper into cultural history and scientific theory to find answers, I kept coming

back to our interconnection and interdependence with all life forms: plant, animal, and even

mineral. Whether acknowledged or not, we are interwoven into the tapestry of life and governed

by the laws of nature. Louv (2011) says, “Human beings exist in nature anywhere they

experience meaningful kinship with other species” (p. 52). My intention in this study is not to

romanticize human relationship with nature, but to offer insight into certain positive aspects of

this relationship that can be applied to a chaplain’s path of service.

Karen Hagel Strawn 2013

As Gandhi wisely spoke, “Be the change you seek in the world.” I am grateful to Roshi

Joan Halifax and Maia Duerr for directing the Upaya Zen Chaplaincy Program. Also a deep

thanks to the wisdom and breadth of experience in the faculty, staff and residents of Upaya, who

truly model compassionate action into the world.

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And lo! The gesdin (tree) shining stands With crystal branches in the golden sands

In this immortal garden stands the tree With trunk of gold and beautiful to see Beside a sacred fount the tree is placed

With emeralds and unknown gems is graced. This is the first reference to the 27th century BCE paradise myth, The Epic of Gilgamesh, in

Babylonian tablets (Moynihan, 1979, p.3).

Chapter 1

Historical Contemplative Healing Gardens

A cultivated garden marked the transition between a hunter-gatherer culture and

permanent settlements. The degree of cultivation depended on the type of landscape early

humans lived in. These ranged from slightly modifying an abundant, lush ecology, as in the

edible forests along the Amazon River, to the amazing engineered waterworks found in the

desert lands of early Persia.

What records we have of early contemplative gardens has been passed down by scribes in

Europe, the Middle East and Asia. These gardens served as sacred spaces for the community as

well as produced food. The ruling class had both the time and resources to experiment with

architecture, water works and plant cultivation, so most of records or stories available are from

these gardens. Some of these early rulers, especially in Persia, were experienced horticulturists

who had access to seeds from along trade routes. Through cross-breeding and plant adaptation,

teams of gardeners were able to develop new strains of food crops and flowering plants so that

the sacred space of the royal or ceremonial garden became a seed repository and early genetic

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lab. Although food production and sacred space are interwoven, this paper will focus on the

more contemplative aspects of a garden.

Early Paradise Gardens

Mircea Eliade wrote in “Nostalgia for Paradise” of man’s repeated attempt to re-establish

a paradise lost at the dawn of time and believed that the concept of Paradise existed almost

everywhere in primitive societies (as cited in Moynihan, 1979, p.5). As a reward in the afterlife,

the Paradise promised in the Koran consisted of many gardens, each more splendid than the last.

“In the Islamic gardens of Persia and Mughal India, the terraces were often meant to correspond

to the enclosures which made up the Garden of Paradise in the Koran” (Moynihan, p.5). It is in

the Greek translation of the Bible’s Old Testament that the idea of Paradise was identified with

the Garden of Eden, wherein the first man and woman dwelt in the garden of the Lord. In the

Christian Bible, paradise first became identified with Heaven, the celestial abode of God

(Moynihan, p.5).

The English word, “Paradise,” comes from a Persian word, pairidaeza, referring to a

garden surrounded by walls. The Greek word for Paradise is paradeisoi; in Hebrew, pardes; in

Latin, paradisus; and in Middle English, paradis. Between the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers, in

the earliest known civilization of lower Mesopotamia, people believed that water was the source

of life. By 10th century BCE, Persian engineers were routing water through elaborate irrigation

systems with canals, dykes, reservoirs and deep underground tunnels (qanats). Mastery over the

flow of water allowed civilizations to flourish and, along with it, the paradise garden.

The earthly paradise garden was an affirmation of the love of nature, with trees reaching

to heaven, flowing water often split in four directions, a symbolic mountain, edible plants and

fragrant flowers. Fruit and nut trees were often grown for food and blossoms as well as seasonal

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flowering plants for beauty, color and scent. Trees were believed to contain a divine presence

and held a sacred position in a garden. Worship of a cosmologically sacred tree, or tree of life, is

found throughout the world. In the ancient Brahman tradition of India, and among Shamans of

Central Asia, the sacred tree was considered the symbolic axis of the earth. The Koran (13:28)

mentions the Tuba Tree in Paradise; Tuba can also mean all kinds of happiness. The cosmic tree

appears as an inverted tree with its roots in heaven growing downward towards the earth as

depicted in the Upanishads of India and medieval Cabbalistic writings (Wikipedia, “Tree of

Life,” 2013). A symbolic Mountain of Paradise and the four rivers of life are also motifs found

beyond Persia. The Persian Chahar-bagh was a form of garden which emulated Eden with four

rivers, four quadrants that represented the world and, in the center, a fountain or pool. In early

Babylon, the ziggurat was the bond between the vault of heaven and earth. The Buddhist Stupa is

another example of a sacred mountain, as is the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem.

Early Japanese Gardens

In the Shinto tradition, specific mountains, streams, plants or rocks were thought to be

inhabited by Kami, the native gods of Japan. In this world, stones were not the gods themselves

but vectors through which the gods could be reached and petitioned. In the Japanese medieval

period, a layer of white gravel or sand was placed around the stones creating kekkai, or border

zones, which marked the boundary between the sacred and human. As an act of ritual

purification, light colored gravel was spread around the grounds of Shinto shrines to create a

ceremonial space upon which dignitaries gathered and religious or political ceremonies were

conducted.

In the 5th century CE, when the Chinese Taoist movement came to Japan, they brought

the myth of Paradise as being a series of islands inhabited by invisible celestial beings. Sitting

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on the back of giant turtles, these islands of immortals were believed to exist in physical time and

space. The Isles of the Immortal, Horai, was a common motif used in Japanese water gardens.

Out of a mix of Hinduism, Buddhism, and Taoism comes the symbolism of Mount

Sumero, which rises from the center of the world surrounded by nine other mountains separated

from it by eight seas. On the flanks of Mount Sumero are four celestial kings guarding the four

cardinal points. To the east is the green dragon who rules over moving waters; in the south the

Red Phoenix which flies over the lowlands; in the west is the white tiger who governs the great

highways; and in the north the black warrior who reigns over the heights. In a garden this

translated to topographical features. A garden must have a stream in the east, a depression in the

south, a path in the west, and a mountain to the north. If these conditions are satisfied, the four

guardians are present and ensure protection of the space (Berthier, 2000, p. 15).

At a time of civil wars, in the 12th century, the paradise garden dedicated to Amida

Buddha brought acute awareness to the precariousness of an awakened life, recognition of the

fragility of human beings, and the impermanence of all things. Emphasized within the garden

design was the poetic beauty of the cycles of life through the seasons, and the transitory nature of

life itself.

Zen Stone Gardens

“The essential energy of earth forms rocks...Rocks are kernels of energy; the generation of rock from energy is like the body’s arterial system producing the nails and teeth.”

John Hays (as cited in Berthier, 2000, p. 90)

What we know of as Zen stone gardens were influenced by these earlier interpretations of

the energetic elements found to be essential in a contemplative garden. The term Karesansui, or

dry landscapes, first appears in the 11th century. Its definition in the Sakuteiki gardening treatise

is “a place without a pond or a stream where one arranges rocks” (Berthier, 2000, p. 19). The

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origin of rocks as sacred arose from Shinto and Taoist traditions. The placement and care of

these rocks had very specific ceremonial rules. Considered the father of Zen rock garden, Muso

Soseki’s work was first recorded in 1312. Early on he worked at the Eihoji Temple in Mino, and

then founded Zuisenji at Kamakura. His two masterpieces are the gardens at Saihoji and

Tenryuji in Kyoto. In this quotation, attributed to Muso Soseki – “he who distinguishes between

the garden and practice cannot be said to have found the true way,” (Berthier, 2000, p.108) Muso

captures the contemplative way of building, maintaining, and being in a Zen stone garden.

One of the most well known Zen rock gardens is the garden of Ryoan-ji, dating from late

15th to early 16th century. For over 400 years, and through two fires, it has maintained its

original design. Approximately 200 square meters in size, it contains fifteen rocks in five groups

of two, three or five, surrounded by raked white gravel. This garden is devoid of colors or plants

to distract the eye, other than the cultivated lichen or moss on or surrounding the rocks. The

west and south sides of the garden space are bordered by a low wall, to the east a white washed

wall, and to the north a wooden verandah which runs the length of an adjacent temple building.

There has been much speculation about this stark, seemingly esoteric arrangement of rocks. In

2002, a team of Japanese researchers published an article in the journal Nature regarding the

Ryoan-ji temple. Using mathematics to analyze the structure of this Zen meditation garden, they

found an interesting pattern using an imaging process technique called medial–axis

transformation. When viewing the garden from the central hall of the temple, precisely where it

was meant to be viewed, the axes of symmetry form the shape of a tree, the trunk of which

passes through the temple, and spreads its branches in the garden in a fractal pattern (as cited in

Sternberg, 2009, p.33). This branching pattern of fractals is calming to the eye, and found in

macro and micro form throughout nature.

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And the Lord God planted a garden eastward in Eden; and there he put the man whom he had formed. And out of the ground made the Lord God to grow every tree that is pleasant to the

sight, and good for food; the tree of life also in the midst of the garden, and the tree of knowledge of good and evil. And a river went out of Eden to water the garden; and from thence

it was parted, and became into four heads. Genesis 2:8-10, (King James Version)

Christian Monastic Gardens

From medieval Europe up to current times, gardens have played multiple roles in the

daily life of a monastic community. The cloister garden was often found in the central open

space of a medieval monastery. Surrounding the garden were covered walkways connected to

the main building. These walkways not only served to move around the complex and get out of

the weather but allowed for contemplative walking practice. In the center of the garden was a

fountain or statue with four quadrants leading away from it, similar to the Persian tradition and

biblical reference of four rivers flowing from the Garden of Eden.

Flowers grown in the sacristan’s cutting garden provided year round color and beauty for

the sanctuary. Traditionally, flowers also provided symbolic religious reference. Specific

flowers and their color were represented in different seasonal ceremonies, throughout the

Christian year.

In Christianity, the Bible describes three aspects of Christian faith through the symbolic

characteristics of flowers: first the renewal of life or redemption of our sin; second, the

purity and beauty of creation; and third, the fragility and impermanence of our lives on

earth. (Hales, 2000, p.35)

Monastic arbors and vineyards in the middle ages cultivated strains of grapes, apples,

pears and pomes, often becoming a repository for rare strains. The art of beekeeping kept a

garden healthy as well as providing wax for candles and a honey wine for beverage. George

Mendel was an Augustinian monastic who used his brilliant observation skills in the garden, to

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father the field of genetics. What we know of the cultivation and cross-breeding in gardens and

arbors in the Middle Ages comes from the records of these monasteries.

During the European Dark Ages from 476-1300 CE, monasteries assumed the task of

collecting, preserving, and copying manuscripts of all kinds. The scriptorium became a central

industry for many of these communities. The monks and nuns had access to manuscripts about

the healing arts from all over the known world, and were encouraged to study herbal lore and the

medicine of the times. In the early Christian era and into the Middle Ages, monasteries

functioned as the local health organization, which meant that the physic or herb garden was an

essential part of the well-being of the whole community.

Prayer is at the core of monastic life. The ancient practice of walking meditation is still

practiced in monastic gardens. “The body’s movement helps to still the mind and center oneself

for a conversation with God. Monks walk in prayer extensively and design their gardens to have

walkways of different lengths and moods” (Hales, 2000, p.145). After the European crusades,

many of the Gothic cathedrals including Chartres, Amiens, and Rheims, built stone labyrinths on

the floor of the nave.

The labyrinth is divided into three stages. First stage is leading towards the center which

stands for release of the stressful burden of life. Second stage, we open up to God,

standing at the center. The third stage is the return journey where we return to our life

joined with God. (Hales, 2000, p.147)

The faithful pray for guidance on the outset of the walk and meditate on this throughout the

walk. With a renewed interest today in the labyrinth, one can experience versions of the labyrinth

built for meditative purposes in outdoor gardens of churches, hospitals and public parks.

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Western Sanctuary, Sanitariums, Early Hospitals, Pavilions and Horticulture Therapy

The word “hospital” derives from Latin hospes, meaning host, and hospitium which

designate the good feeling that should flow from a host to a guest. During the 4th century,

Christian usage altered the meaning of hospitium to the place where such feelings are

experienced. Usually located on church property, these places of refuge for the poor and sick

were very small, and supported mainly by endowments. During the Crusades, hospitals as we

now know them were set up along the path of the pilgrims to care for the sick and exhausted.

In 1347 CE the bubonic plague arrived in Europe. For the next 200 years, hospitals and

monastic centers declined due to high death rates, migration and the subsequent chaos in Europe.

During the 15th century, Spanish hospital design and practice was the best in Europe, following

the traditional Arab design of a courtyard, fresh air and sunlight. A system of patient care later

know as the traitment moral was developed at a hospital in Zaragoza, Spain, founded in 1409,

and later popularized by 18th century French reformer, Phillippe Pinel. In the moral treatment of

the mentally ill, a full regime was developed with daily chores and work outside in the vegetable

gardens, orchards, farms and vineyards. The goal of moral treatment was to socialize the

patients by creating a supportive social and physical environment so that the patient’s own

internal resources for reasonable behavior could reassert itself (Gerlach-Spriggs, Kaufman &

Warner, 1998, p. 19-21).

Also in the 18th century, hospital proprietors endeavored to manage health needs of the

poor as inexpensively as possible, and it became commonplace in the hospital setting to put

many people into a crowded space with no windows or access to natural environments. English

prison and hospital reformer John Howard came forward recommending fresh air, a garden view

for all patients, and opportunities for convalescent patients to walk in the gardens. The Pavilion

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model for hospitals grew out of Howard’s work, first in Holland then spreading throughout

Europe. In this model, hospital rooms had formal gardens laid out between wards, lots of fresh

air and open space for the patients to bathe in the sunlight. In 1873, when Johns Hopkins, an

American Quaker, donated the funds for a medical school and free hospital, he wrote,

I wish the large grounds surrounding the hospital buildings to be properly enclosed by

iron railings and to be so laid out and planted with trees and flowers as to afford solace to

the sick and be an ornament to the section of the city in which the grounds are located.

(Gerlach-Spriggs et al., 1998, p. 22)

The design for the Johns Hopkins complex specified detached special-use buildings arranged

around a central garden and fountain. A roofed walkway would connect these building for the

staff, and patients would have access to fresh air and sunshine. This design became a standard in

the great wave of American construction at the turn of the 19th/20th century.

As the 20th century marched on, in came advances in infection management, better

technology, and a higher recovery rate. Along with these innovations came shiny, easily cleaned,

noise reflective surfaces, which added to the already stressful, sometimes confusing environment

of a modern hospital. With an emphasis on technology and budget cuts in acute care settings,

allotments for gardens became smaller, especially in big urban hospitals.

Over the past 40 years there has been a renewed interest in the use of gardens in

hospitals, nursing homes, prisons and rehabilitation centers. Teams of psychologists,

neuroscientists, architects, horticulturists and landscape designers are innovating with science,

natural design and technology in order to create built ecologies more conducive to healing. In

the next chapter we explore some theories behind why interacting with a garden supports the

natural healing process.

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Let’s be clear, spending time interacting in a well-designed garden won’t cure your cancer or heal a badly burned leg. But there is good evidence it can reduce your levels of pain and stress and by doing that, boost your immune system in ways that allow your own body and other treatments to help you heal. (Cooper Marcus & Barnes, 1999, p. 3)

Chapter 2

Current Theories about the Healing Effect of Nature Today, great waves of humanity are flowing out of rural areas into the urban environment

at an unprecedented rate. Worldwide, city officials are struggling to provide resources to support

these people, many of whom have left war-torn countries, stripped landscapes, or poverty, and

have moved into cities with hopes of a better life through educational or work opportunities.

Since the mid 20th century, scientists have been concerned with the environmental impact of

human migration and its cost of physical and psychological disconnection from the natural

worlds A renewed interest in horticulture therapy and gardens in a therapeutic setting has also

developed during this time. A garden setting is nature tamed, a protected habitat brought down

to human scale. The garden as a refuge stimulates the physiology of serenity and recuperation as

opposed to a fight-flight reaction to stress and arousal.

In this chapter, I will review several current theories which consider how interacting with

nature is important for our wellbeing. These theories range from evolutionary, physiological,

cognitive and therapeutic to a resonance approach. As these theories are applied, we are

beginning to see healthier, more user-friendly designs in the built ecology, different therapeutic

applications within a garden setting, and a better understanding of why gardens restore and

balance our inner lives.

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Evolutionary Theories

Biophilia and Savanna Gestalt are two closely related evolutionary theories which look at

why humans often relax in a natural setting. Human beings have spent long periods of our

evolutionary development in savannah ecology. According to the Savannah Gestalt, early

humans preferred an environment which had a superior resource base and included scattered

clusters of trees, a rich diversity of plants and animals, long distance views, rock out cropping,

and moving water. In 1981, Roger Ulrich conducted several lab studies finding that it took only

3-5 minutes to elevate positive feelings and reduce negative emotions by viewing a nature scene

with one or more of these elements (cited in Gerlach-Spriggs, Kaufman & Warner, 1998, p. 37).

E. O. Wilson, an entomologist from Yale, in the mid 70’s popularized the term “Biophilia,”

which he describes as “an innately emotional affiliation of human beings to other living

organisms” (Wilson, 1993, p. 31). Over the past 10,000 years, as humans have evolved from

hunter-gatherers to urban dwellers, we have adapted to our changing environment. In this

context, Biophilia is

a complex set of learning rules that guide adaptive response to natural stimuli. These

rules are reinforced through cultural adaptation such as myths, and stories. [...] When we

are removed from the natural environment, the ancient learning rules are not so easily

transferable to modern urban landscape. These learning rules are fragile and need

reinforcement by contact with nature on a regular basis. (Heerwagen, 2010, p. 2)

From a slightly different perspective, several behavioral ecologists maintain that our attraction to

the natural world exists at the level of our DNA. As our genes evolve, the ghost of past genetic

patterns haunts us (Ferrier, 2012). Both Biophilia and the genetic ghost theories agree that we are

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influenced by our genetic memory, but our current environment continues to shape and modify

how we respond to the world around us.

Physiological and Cognitive Theories

Psychologist Rachael Kaplan and her husband, Professor Stephen Kaplan, at University

of Michigan in Ann Arbor, and environmental psychologist Roger S. Ulrich at Texas A & M

University, and a growing number of social scientists, are exploring the impact of natural

“green” settings on individuals’ mental functioning, social relationships and even physical well-

being. Stephen and Rachel Kaplan are proponents of the arousal and overload theory. They

believe that the built environment taxes our senses by requiring us to remain in forced attention.

In their 1989 book, The Experience of Nature: A Psychological Perspective, the Kaplans suggest

a restorative experience is needed to recover from this overload of sensory input. The restorative

experience of choice is nature. The Kaplans argue that using too much of the forced attention

can lead to what they call "directed attention fatigue," with accompanying impulsivity,

distractibility and irritability. Our inherent fascination with nature helps people recover from this

state. "Directed attention fatigues people through overuse," Stephen Kaplan explains. "If you can

find an environment where the attention is automatic, you allow directed attention to rest. And

that means an environment that's strong on fascination" (as cited in Clay, 2001, p. 40). Out of

this research came Attention Restorative Theory. Specifically, this theory states that by using

effortless time in diverse natural surroundings that capture our interest, we restore the brain’s

ability to focus, refresh the attention, and relax the mind.

In 1984, Environmental Psychologist Roger S. Ulrich did a landmark study referred to as

“Window With a View.” He examined the restorative effect of recovering in a hospital room

which had a window overlooking a stand of trees versus recovering in a hospital room which had

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a window looking out at a brick wall. The sample used was from the records of individuals at a

suburban Pennsylvania hospital from 1972-1981, who were recovering from a cholecystectomy

(gall bladder removal). The base sample consisted of 46 similar patients divided into two

subgroups of 23 each. Five types of information were gathered from each record: number and

strength of medication taken for anxiety or pain each day, minor complications which required

medication, symptoms reported as side effects from the medications taken, all the nurse notes

relating to patients condition or rate of recovery, and length of stay from day of surgery to the

day of discharge. In comparison to the brick wall view group, the tree view group had a shorter

post operative hospital stay, fewer negative comments from nurses, took fewer moderate and

strong analgesic doses, and had slightly lower scores from minor postsurgical complications.

Quite simply, patients in rooms with a view of the natural world got better quicker and with more

ease (Ulrich, 1984). This landmark study has inspired many designers involved in the built

environment – landscape architects, city planners, architects and builders – to create with

evidence-based design in therapeutic settings. “Evidence-based design is defined as the

deliberate attempt to base building decisions on the best available evidence with the goal of

achieving the best possible outcomes for patients, families and staff while improving utilization

of resources” (NACHRI, 2008, p. 1).

Therapeutic Theories

From a therapeutic perspective, there are slightly different theories as to the use and

effect of a garden setting: horticulture therapy, healing gardens, and restorative gardens.

Horticulture therapy is defined as “the engagement of a client in horticultural activities facilitated

by a trained therapist to achieve specific and documented treatment goals” (American

Horticultural Therapy Association). Humans are active creatures and activity is healthy unto

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itself so proponents of horticulture therapy says that the health effects are due to the fact the

work in a garden is obvious, meaningful and enjoyable. A healing garden can include a

therapeutic garden, or horticulture therapy garden but the primary focus is a garden which uses

“the restorative value of nature to provide an environment conducive to mental repose, stress-

reduction, emotional recovery, and the enhancement of mental and physical energy” (AHTA).

Very similar to the healing garden definition, Nancy Gerlach-Spriggs et al., in Restorative

Gardens, describes restorative gardens as a place meant for the healthy as well as the sick.

For the healthy, such gardens encourage sociability among companions, promote

relaxation and contemplation for the solitary visitor, or create a sense of community

among residents who live in quarters around the garden. For the sick of body or troubled

in spirit, the same garden relaxes and soothes and thereby encourages the body and the

mind to restore. (p. 2)

Directly related to the mental health effects of experiencing a garden, Stigsdotter (2002)

combined environmental psychology, landscape architecture, medicine and horticulture therapy

into a cognitive theory of gardens as

the health effects are due to the fact that the garden or wild nature with its shapes colors

odors etc., plus the activities that can be carried out there can restore a person to a more

positive view of himself and his capacities. [...] An environment that corresponds with his

preferences and himself tells him that he is what he feels he is – part of the world of

meaning. (p. 63)

Resonance Theories

From a more nuanced perspective, in the emerging field of social neuroscience there are a

number of theories on how we resonate with the world, which go beyond sensory environmental

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cues and adaptation. How and why do we have an empathetic response to another’s pain or joy?

This extends out from relationship with self, to interpersonal relationships and global inter-

relationships. In the early 1990’s at University of Parma, a team of neuroscientists discovered a

certain group of neurons which not only fired when a monkey performed an action but also when

a monkey watched another person perform an action or even heard someone performing that

action in the next room. It was conjectured that these ‘mirror’ neurons respond by resonating on

a neurological level with others in close proximity or through observation. These mirror neurons

were originally thought to be the site of empathy, however these neurons are now considered to

be only one site in a series of nerve clusters which constitute the empathetic response (Thomas,

2012). So what is an empathetic response? A common definition of empathy is “feeling with”.

Empathetic resonance can be explained as a physiological resonance between individuals which

is considered fundamental to the biological capacity for empathy. An impaired internal self-

awareness (interoception) has been linked with a decreased capacity for empathy. Empathetic

distress is a state of reduced capacity for empathetic concern as a consequence of being

exhausted from absorbing the distress of others. Empathetic distress and personal distress are

aversive and self-oriented emotions that can lead to withdrawal behavior motivated by the desire

to protect oneself from negative emotions.

Another perspective on why we can feel with another is the theory of sympathetic

resonance. Sympathetic resonance or sympathetic vibration is a harmonic phenomenon wherein

a formerly passive string or vibratory body responds to external vibrations to which it has a

harmonic likeness (Wikipedia, “Sympathetic Resonance,” 2013). This term has also been used to

explain a common felt sense, usually emotional, between two or more people.

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Intersubjectivity resonance is a more complex theory as it is used with slightly different

meanings by a range of disciplines. Intersubjectivity can be understood as the process of

psychological energy moving between two or more subjects. Intersubjectivity also emphasizes a

shared cognition and consensus that is essential in the shaping of our ideas and relations

(Wikipedia, “Intersubjectivity,” 2013). Intersubjectivity resonance expands beyond human

interaction to interspecies dynamics. In cultural myths and folklore, resonance between species is

a common theme.

Academy of Neuroscience for Architecture

In 2002, a group of environmental psychologists, architects, engineers and neuroscientists

met together and decided to form the Academy of Neuroscience for Architecture. Their mission

is to precisely measure how we respond to our environment with the intention of identifying

elements in our physical environment that are supportive of good health and the healing process.

With this information, a designer/architect can create an environment which is easier to navigate,

more soothing to the eye, and more comfortable to live/work in. Roger Ulrich refers to this

effect as “ecological health.” Some of the design elements considered are: the addition of

gardens, views of nature, landscape artwork, soothing music, nature sounds, and soothing colors

in spaces where family members can congregate for mutual support. Also included are “green”

features such as improved indoor air quality, use of nontoxic building materials, nontoxic

cleaning supplies, recycling of medical equipment and waste, recycled water for irrigation, and

wheel chair accessible nature trails.

Based in evidence-based design, many designers/builders are looking at how to create

environments which take into consideration what happens to us when we are “sick.” The way

we act and feel when we are ailing is called “Sickness Behavior.” It appears that interleukin-1,

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an immune system molecule our body produces to fight infection, is also instrumental in

triggering a cascade of nerve chemicals in the brain which result in the sensations we associate

with being sick: cognition impairment, fatigue, diminished interest in the outside world,

reluctance to move, depressed mood, loss of memory and loss of appetite (Sternberg, 2009, pp.

152-156). Architects can take this information into account when designing ecologies in places

of trauma and recovery. For example, Alzheimer units and rehabilitation centers are relooking at

what their patients’ ongoing needs or impairments are and redesigning use of space with

landmarks (wayfinding), color, and recognizable objects, with the objective of creating an easier

to use, therapeutic living space.

Throughout this chapter we have looked at a number of the current theories behind why a

natural setting could have a healing and/or therapeutic effect. Research being done by the

Academy of Neuroscience for Architecture gives us examples of how this information is being

directly applied into the built environment. Appendix A has a list of suggested elements of a

healing garden put forth by environmental psychologist Roger S. Ulrich and horticulturists Bruce

and Folk.

The next chapter will delve deeper into the language of the senses. In our urban ecologies

we have become reliant on the spoken or written word, and human-oriented visual cues. We are

losing the ability to read the natural environment as our ancestors once did. I propose that by

increasing the awareness of our five senses and felt sense (somatic) we can gain a deeper

appreciation of how embedded we are in the whole world around us. It may seem an obvious

concept but with strong rewards in the current education system on mental development versus

experiential integration, many feel separated from their body/mind and consequently the

language of the natural worlds.

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Embodiment is the source of the felt sense of another’s suffering through the experience of intersubjective resonance, wherein experience feels as if it is happening in the patient’s own body. This connects embodiment to the experience of interoceptivity and attention to one’s own visceral processes and appears to prime empathy. Embodiment thus is viewed as forming a fundamental base for the compassionate interactive, enacted, engaged life. (Halifax, 2012, p. 6)

Chapter 3

Language of the Senses

Derrick Jensen, in his 2004 book, A Language Older Than Words, writes about a

primordial language integral to our planet. This is the language of the elements, the seasons,

dawn and dusk, waves in the ocean, morning song of the dove, and the myriad lives in a garden.

Along with the marvels of human technology comes a prevalent dissociation from that part of us

which is responsive to this primordial voice. The first tenet of the Zen Peacemaker order is “Not

Knowing – thereby giving up fixed ideas about myself and the universe” (Zen Peacemakers,

1994). As spiritual care providers, we practice holding presence with an open heart, open mind,

and through our felt sense. By listening deeply with our five senses and internal felt sense, we

learn to pick up subtler cues from the world around us, which enables us to engage in life more

fully. This chapter explores the concept of a felt sense, reviews how we process information

through our senses and how sensory memory shapes our perception of the world.

Felt Sense

Eugene Gendlin coined the phrase “felt sense” from his years of practice as a

psychotherapist. He defines (1978) this as follows.

A felt sense is not a mental experience but a physical one. Physical. A bodily awareness

of a situation or person or event. An internal aura that encompasses everything you feel

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and know about the given subject at any given time- encompasses it and communicates it

to you at once rather than detail by detail. […] Felt sense doesn’t come to you in the form

of thoughts or words or other separate units but as a single, (often puzzling and very

complex) bodily feeling. (p. 32)

Gendlin teaches the practice of Focusing, which brings one’s attention inward; drawing on

information from the deeper, wiser “body self.” He suspected that this felt sense shift is

reflective of the holistic side of the brain, which is richly connected to the limbic brain. Peter

Levine (2005) defines felt sense as

The physical senses of sight, sound, smell, touch and taste are elements that contribute

only a portion of the information that builds the foundation for the felt sense. Other

important data are derived from our body’s internal awareness, positions it takes, the

tensions it has, movements it makes, its temperature, etc. The felt sense can be influenced

even changed by our thought. Yet it is not a thought, rather it is something we feel .

[…]Emotions contribute to the felt sense, but they play a less important role than most

people believe. […] The felt sense encompasses a complex array of ever-shifting

nuances. The feelings we experience are typically much more subtle, complex, and

intricate than what we can convey in language. (p. 48)

It is through the language of the senses that all life on this beautiful planet communicates.

Consciously or unconsciously, we register interdependence of life though our senses. Another

approach to felt sense is by what is called interoception. Originally the word was used to

describe a felt sense of our visceral process and it has expanded in meaning. Joan Halifax

explains interoception as “this ability to be attuned to one’s own physical processes or features,

from breathing to heartbeat, from digestion to sexual sensations, seem to have a relationship to

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ones capacity to be attuned to the somatic/affective states of others” (Halifax, 2012, p. 3).

Studies have found that individuals who have been raised in a rural area or have spent a lot of

time in a natural setting, have a more developed sensory range. For example: the ability to

differentiate complex sounds, see longer distances, recognize weather patterns, or smell the

composition of soil. Attunement with the language of our senses is primary to gardening or

resourcing in a garden, so I will review the five senses in some depth.

To See

Although all of our sensory systems acting together are important to survival, the visual

system is our primary mode of gathering information. How do we see? As we look upon an

object, photons (light) enter through the black pupil, and hit specialized cells called rods and

cones embedded in the retina on the back half of the eye. Within these cells are pigments that get

activated by the photons, triggering a biochemical cascade which sends an electrical impulse. As

this signal moves through the brain to the visual cortex, features are added to the perception, and

visual map is created which helps us to interpret what we are seeing. What we see in a scene can

be relaxing or jarring. Professor Irving Biederman at UCLA found that when people view scenes

that are universally preferred – beautiful vistas, sunset or a grove of trees – nerve cells are

triggered along the visual pathway which become active and secrete opiates. As the view

becomes richer in color, depth, and movement, more nerves cells along this opiate pathway

become active (Sternberg, 2009, p. 33).

To Hear

The auditory processing center is located very close to the visual processing center in the

brain stem, where the auditory information becomes mixed with input from other senses and gets

translated in several parts of the cerebral cortex. This allows us to make meaning out of what we

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hear. When a pulse of sound reaches the ear, it funnels down a narrow canal called the pinna to

the tympanum (or ear drum), causing it to vibrate at the same frequency as the sound coming in.

As the ear drum vibrates, three tiny loosely hinged bones named in Latin by their shapes –

malleus/ hammer, incus/anvil, and stapes/stirrup – begin to vibrate in response. As the sound

waves move on, they reach a carpet of cells with fine filaments of differing thickness, hair cells

that wrap around in a spiral like a snail shell. Each filament vibrates best at a different frequency

according to thickness. These vibrating hairs trigger electrical impulses in the fibers of the

auditory nerve cell on which they sit. As nerves cells pass along information, it is separated into

where the sound is and what it is. Through our stereo hearing we can locate quickly the origin of

the sound. As the sound impulse moves into the auditory cortex, features of the sound are

extracted out into streams of language, music, and timing. The part of the brain which interprets

this information is located in the auditory cortex, a region in the temporal lobe. Just like

information coming in the eyes and nose forms a map in the cortex, sound becomes organized in

the brain from a low to a high frequency arrangement called tonotopic map. In all of our senses,

nerve cells respond better to sudden change than to a repeated stimulus of the same kind which

over time causes a habituation response. If a change in sound, intensity or type is too sudden it

causes a startle response. The startle response is a primitive, life saving reflex which enables us

to focus attention and prepare to defend or run. It is directly wired into the brain’s fear center,

the amygdala. If a frightening event has happened before, the hypothalamus gets involved and

amplifies the startle response.

To Smell

Smell, like taste, is detected by sensory cells called chemo receptors. If a substance is

somewhat volatile it will give off molecules. Temperature and humidity increase molecular

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activity so we smell more. As air sweeps the molecules up the nostrils they hit the olfactory

epithelium, a mucus rich square inch located on top of the nasal cavity. Here are olfactory

receptor cells which are neurons with knobby tips called dendrites. Olfactory hairs cover these

dendrites and capture the molecules, this sends out nerve signals to the olfactory bulb which

splits into two arms, acting as a sensory information filter system. It is thought that each

olfactory receptor responds to a specific scent forming a type of olfactory map translated in the

brain by stereo reception of our two nostrils. The brain then sorts these scents into categories or

families of fragrance. Researchers are finding that humans can actually detect the social

landscape or moods of those around us through the sense of smell (Sternberg, 2009, p. 81).

There is also an association with smell and memory. The olfactory bulbs have intimate

access to the amygdala which processes emotion and the hippocampus which is related to

associative learning and memory. Smells trigger memory as a conditioned response. The brain

forges a link between scent and associated events. Most of these links happen in the first ten

years of life; hence scents often recall childhood memories.

To Taste

Taste is a chemical sense perceived by specialized receptors cells that make up the taste

buds. Flavor in contrast is a fusion of multiple senses. To perceive flavor the brain interprets

gustatory (taste) stimuli, olfactory (smell) as well as tactile and thermal sensations. Taste is also

the most subjective sense as the scent memory for the number of taste receptors is unique to each

individual. Taste and scent are our perception of chemicals in air, food or water and are

intimately entwined. Chemicals in our food are detected by taste buds, structures embedded

within the small bumps called papillae, on the top surface of our tongue. Every person has

between 5-10,000 taste buds. The chemo receptors within the taste buds are called gustatory

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receptor cells which have a spindly protrusion called a gustatory hair. As we take a bite,

molecules mix with saliva, enter the taste pore and interact with the gustatory hair, triggering a

neuron impulse to the gustatory area of the cerebral cortex. The brain interprets this sensation as

taste. We have five primary tastes: sweet, salty, sour, bitter and a savory taste, Umami. These

taste centers are mapped on the tongue by bitter in the back, sour on the sides, salty on the front

edge, sweet on the tip with Umami in the middle of the back. Taste is intimately linked with our

ability to smell. Smells seem to become amplified when we are sick or stressed, but hunger and

the ability to taste seems to be modified. As we age, there is a decreased sensitivity to salty,

savory and sweet tastes. A number of drugs can also alter our ability to taste and smell,

especially those used in chemotherapy.

To Touch

Touch is very important for overall neural organization. Our tactile system is the largest

sensory system in the body. It is the first sensory system to develop in the womb, and functions

effectively when the visual and auditory system is just beginning to develop. Without a great

deal of tactile stimulation of the body the nervous system becomes unbalanced (Ayres, 1979, p.

34). We see this in studies of failure to thrive babies or in elderly who have been neglected with

minimal physical contact.

In the field of medicine, the sense of touch is also referred to as somatic sense due to its

many layered complexity. The skin is the first to receive felt impressions from outside of the

body. It is the largest organ of the body and has many different kinds of receptors for receiving

sensations of touch: pressure, heat, cold and movement of the hairs on the skin. Touch receptors

below the neck send impulses to the spinal cord which then rise up to the brain stem. Skin on the

head sends impulses directly to the brain stem. From the brain stem tactile information is widely

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distributed throughout the rest of the brain. Many of these impulses never reach parts of the

cerebral cortex that makes us aware of sensation. Instead, impulses are responded to at a lower

level of the brain to help us move effectively and translate other types of sensory information.

Nuclei in the brain stem rapidly process tactile input to tell us if something is painful, cold, hot,

wet, scratchy, or dangerous. The location and shape of the tactile input is processed in sensory

areas of the cerebral cortex (Ayres, 1979, p. 35). The point-to-point mapping of the body

surfaces is located in the midbrain in a pattern referred to as the homunculus and is essential to

the creation of a holistic body image.

Another layer of tactile sense is proprioception, which refers to the sensory information

caused by contraction or stretching of muscles and by bending, straightening, pulling and

compression on the joints between the bones. Proprioception helps us orient in space by a

constant feedback loop which recognizes where the body is and what it is doing. This system is

almost as large as the skin as there are so many joints, muscles and bones in the body. Most of

the information received by the proprioceptors is processed in areas of the brain not involved in

conscious awareness, so unless we pay deliberate attention, the sensation of our muscles, joints

and bones is rarely noticed. There are also proprioceptors around internal organs and major

blood vessels. Visceral input helps regulate blood pressure, digestion, breathing, and other

functions of the autonomic nervous system. This system also tells us how much food and water

we need in the body. Paying attention to the breath, as in meditation, brings awareness to our

proprioceptors involved in breathing.

Other sensory systems, especially the tactile and vestibular, influence our autonomic

system. This is why spinning around can upset our digestion or why painful sensations can stop

our breath (Ayres, 1979, p. 36). The vestibular system, located in the inner ear, is a unifying

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system as it forms the basic relationship of a person to gravity and the physical world. All other

types of information are processed in reference to this basic vestibular information. It seems to

prime the entire nervous system to function effectively. When the whole body and all of its

senses work together as a whole, adaptation and learning are easy for the brain (Ayres, 1979, p.

37).

Jon Kabat-Zinn writes beautifully about the interplay of the senses in his book, Coming

to our Senses (2005):

The senses overlap and blend together, and cross pollinate. This experience is called

synesthesia. We are not fragmented in our being. We never were. Our senses, blending

together, shape our knowing of the world and our participation in it from moment to

moment. That we do not recognize this is a measure of our alienation from our own

feeling body and from the nature world. (p. 190)

Memory

Memories of events and place are crucial to a sense of self, as seen when the memory

begins to fade in Alzheimer’s disease. There is no single area where memories are preserved in

the brain; it seems to be a continuous process with many parts. Memory has been divided into

several types depending on what kind of information is being processed. There is an explicit

memory of facts and events, implicit memory which is an awareness of features or episodic

memory. Some parts of the brain store semantic memory (general knowledge), or procedural

memory (procedural habit). Also some types of memory about spatial arrangements are sorted

topographically, similar to how we process sound tonographically. The hippocampus plays a part

in memory storage. Initially it takes a few seconds to minutes to bring up or store a memory.

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Fully cementing our memory takes repetition over weeks to years depending on what is being

learned (Sternberg, 2009, p.146).

Memory storage acts in a curious way under stress or trauma. When an experience is

highly charged, all sensory input taken in at that moment is stored collectively in our memory

and survival pathways as part of the event. The phrase, “what fires together wires together,”

refers to the fact that if two or more nerve cells fire together, there is a good chance that they will

fire together in the future. This is why we can develop sensory aversions after a traumatic event.

Environmental triggers come up seemingly out of nowhere and can vividly bring forth an

associated memory or emotional charge related to that memory. Gardens are a rich array of

sensation and memories triggers associated with scent, sound and sight. Often memory snippets

arise within the sensory experience of a garden and we need to understand that these memory

snippets may trigger a positive or sometimes negative emotional response.

Summary

This chapter reviews how information of the world around us is processed through our

felt sense, five senses, and memory bias. This is relevant to how we interact with a garden or in a

natural setting. Awareness of the felt sense gives us subtle information about how our internal

life is reacting to the world around us. A basic understanding of how memories are processed

and the emotional triggers which can be linked to environmental cues allows for patience and

tolerance when we see these triggers arise in self and others. Simply focusing on each of the five

senses helps bring us back to the present moment and creates space around a challenging event.

In Appendix B, several simple exercises are given which bring awareness to the senses, ways to

ground and how to do a basic body scan to increase the felt sense.

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The next chapter explores the nature of stress, grief, trauma, secondary trauma and

resilience. Hospitals are stressful places to be in for staff, patients and their families. Nursing

homes and assisted living facilities can be isolating and lonely. As caregivers, secondary trauma

comes with the job and we all move through grief in different stages of life. Our capacity to

bounce back to a normalized state is what is called resilience. The remarkable ability to be

resilient and build resilience will be looked at from a human perspective and ecological system

perspective as they are interwoven and relate to the subject of using a garden to resource and as a

teaching tool.

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This was a great joy – to be out in the air – for I had not been outside in almost a month. A pure and intense joy, a blessing, to feel the sun on my face, and the wind in my hair, to hear birds, to see, touch and fondle the living plants. Some essential connection and communication with nature was re-established after the horrible isolation and alienation I had known. Some part of me came alive, when I was taken to the garden, which had been starved, and died, perhaps without my knowing it.[…] I suddenly felt what I have often felt intensely before, but never thought to apply to my own time in the hospital: that one needs open-air hospitals with gardens, set in country and woods…a hospital like home, not a fortress or institution, a hospital like a home or perhaps like a village. (Oliver Sacks M.D., as cited in Gerlach-Spriggs et al., 1998, p. 3)

Chapter 4

Stress, Trauma, Grief, Secondary Trauma, and Resilience As Oliver Sacks so eloquently writes about his long hospitalization, there is a point in the

healing process when the mental focus shifts from an internalized world of the sick or

traumatized body/mind to an expansive interest even curiosity about what is happening around

us. This shift marks the beginning of recovery. During this emergent period, we can appreciate

once again, how fragile and incredibly precious our vital connection to life is.

Life is never a flat line of experience; we are continuously growing, changing, adapting

or at times just coping. This chapter explores the incredible resilience of life through examining

the nature of stress, grief, trauma, secondary trauma, and markers of a resilient system. The Zen

Peacemakers’ second tenet, “Bearing witness to the joy and suffering in the world,” speaks of

unconditionally cracking the heart open and bearing witness to life (Zen Peacemakers, 1994). If

applied in an altruistic or naive way, this tenet can lead to exhaustion if one’s natural capacity for

resilience is weak or strained. Implicit within the second tenet is the necessity of self awareness

and capacity building in order to be fully present with another in crisis and enough humility to

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give space or get assistance when we have become dysregulated. Solace taken from our faith

traditions, as well as other tools used to self-modulate, are invaluable when we find ourselves

strained . The garden setting is a powerful resource for us to turn to, Nature herself!

Stress

Patients in the hospital are constantly exposed to stressors that impair health, slow healing, and weaken the immune system. Understanding and reducing stress in the hospital environment is to twenty first century medicine what understanding germ theory and reducing infection were to nineteen century care. (Sternberg, 2009, p. 230)

Hans Selye, considered the father of stress research, introduced the General Adaptation

Syndrome model in 1936, which lays out three phases we go through in the stress response as the

body attempts to restore homeostasis. The human adaptation response has three phases: Alarm,

Resistance, and Exhaustion. When resistance is weakened and/or the exhaustion phase is

prolonged, it reduces our ability to adapt and negatively impacts a variety of systems in the body:

decreased immune function, high blood pressure, thinking or memory impairment and a

tendency for anxiety and/or depression.

Dr. Herbert Benson is a retired American cardiologist and founder of the Mind/Body

Medical Institute at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston. Since the 1970’s he has taught

people how to control pain and reduce the stress response through his pioneering work on “the

relaxation response,” which focuses on the breath, a simple visualization or sound, and a relaxed

sitting practice for 10-15 minutes a day.

Arising out of his Zen Buddhist practice, Dr. Jon Kabat-Zinn developed Mindfulness

Based Stress Reduction (MBSR) at University of Massachusetts Medical Center. This technique

brings together mindfulness meditation and yoga techniques usually in the form of an eight week

intensive training which meets once a week.

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Mindfulness practice is ideal for cultivating greater awareness of the unity of mind and

body, as well as of the ways the unconscious thoughts, feelings, and behaviors can

undermine emotional, physical, and spiritual health. The mind is known to be a factor in

stress and stress-related disorders, and meditation has been shown to positively affect a

range of autonomic physiological processes, such as lowering blood pressure and

reducing overall arousal and emotional reactivity. In addition to mindfulness practices,

MBSR uses yoga to help reverse the prevalence of disuse atrophy from our culture's

largely sedentary lifestyle, especially for those with pain and chronic illnesses.

(mindfullivingprograms.com)

MBSR is being widely studied by scientists, with several variations now in practice. Benson’s

relaxation response and MBSR techniques are examples of effective ways to reduce stress

through cultivating mindfulness around how we interact within our world.

Grief

There is no typical time frame for grief and bereavement. The assumption that we all,

more or less, do the same grief “work” just doesn’t hold up to recent studies. Over 50% of

people recover naturally within 6 months to a year, 15% exhibit signs of chronic or stuck grief

and need support, while the rest seem to recover more slowly but most eventually do recover.

Initially, after death of a loved one or a profound loss, there is a range of emotions, anger,

disgust, relief and most prominent, and longest lasting, sadness.

Sadness turns our attention inward so that we can take stock and adjust.[…] People made

to feel sad are also more accurate in the way they view their own abilities and

performance and are also more thoughtful and less biased in their perceptions of other

people. (Bonanno, 2009, p. 31)

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An interesting insight from this research is the presence of intermittent positive emotions even

with intense grief. Moments of positive emotion even in the first few months of bereavement are

commonplace.

Grief is tolerable, actually, only because it comes and goes in a kind of oscillation. We

move back and forth emotionally. We focus on the pain of loss; its implications, its

meaning, and then our minds swing back toward the immediate world of other people,

and what is going on in the present. We temporarily lighten up and reconnect with those

around us. Then we dive back down to continue the process of mourning. (Bonanno, p.

40)

This oscillation pattern broadens out over time as the swings of bereavement begin to normalize.

After hundreds of stories and detailed research about bereavement, Bonanno demonstrates that in

grief, trauma, and the many stressful moments of life, resilience is the norm. I propose that

gardening or the garden setting settles us enough for intermittent positive emotions to arise

within the bereavement process.

Trauma

“Trauma happens when the organism is strained beyond its adaptation capacity to

regulate states of arousal…the (traumatized) nervous system disorganizes, breaks down, and

cannot reset itself” (Levine, 2005, p. 8). No two people are exactly alike in their responses. An

individual’s perception of an event could affect the nervous system the same as an actual

experience. Many factors contribute to how we react to a potentially traumatic situation: genetic

makeup, family dynamics, resilience capacity or individuals’ history with trauma. There are two

types of trauma, developmental and shock, often it’s a combination of both. A simple childhood

accident may affect two children very differently, causing no reaction in one and trauma in

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another. Those who have experienced a traumatic event may exhibit a range of cognitive,

emotional, behavioral, physiological or spiritual reactions and these symptoms could show up

differently in adults or children. Presentation of symptoms from a trauma usually appear within

several weeks of the traumatic experience, may not be noticed until months or years later or may

wax/wane depending on what else in a happening in life. Some examples of how trauma

presents are: hyper arousal, constriction, dissociation and denial or feelings of helplessness,

immobility, memory loss and freezing. When in a trauma response, we are not able to be present;

to see, to hear or perceive our immediate environment fully through the felt sense. Unresolved

trauma can cause an individual repeatedly to be drawn into situations that reenact the original

trauma in more or less obvious ways, as our unconscious mind tries to resolve the trauma

(Levine, p. 16-17).

How implicit or explicit memory is stored and recovered is related to whether we

perceive a situation as being threatening or not. Implicit memory begins in the womb. We

construct mental models of our world by interacting with the environment around us through

somatic sensing, physical activities, emotional experiences and body sensation memories. The

amygdala processes body sensation and defensive movements so they can be recorded as implicit

memories in the cortex. This acts as the smoke alarm of the brain rapidly signally the rest of the

nervous system when threat is perceived. On the other hand, explicit memory is the process of

conscious learning and retention of information like facts and events. It is a slow, accurate

recorder of experience. The hippocampus processes explicit memory in the cortex. When the

amygdala gets stimulated and stress hormones are released, it often interferes with the

hippocampus’s ability to clearly store memory. In other words, the more stressed we are, the

less memory we have of the stressor event (Trauma Resilience Model 1).

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Both the Trauma Resiliency Model and Peter Levine’s trauma release work concentrate

on using somatic or felt sense awareness to recognize and release stored trauma from the body.

Briefly, the theory behind this work is that we all have a natural zone of resilience within which

we daily vacillate through the ups and downs of life. High stress, a traumatic event, or shock,

can throw us out of this resilience zone, causing dysregulation. Continuous stress or trauma as in

domestic violence, a war zone or natural disaster, keeps us dysregulated. Through somatic

release work, both Levine and TRM therapists are seeing a substantial decrease of trauma in the

body. The technique used is a combination of grounding, development of strong internal or

external resources and cycling between the triggering sensations as they arise in the body and a

resource. It seems to help move out stuck energy and bring us back into the resilience zone, with

a subtle or sometimes profound expression. Resilience, in this context, is the ability to flow with

life’s ups and downs within our resilience zone and to quickly return if bumped out of the zone.

With increased awareness of the felt sense and working with triggers as they arise, we are able to

slowly expand capacity within the resilience zone.

Secondary Trauma

As a caregiver, there is often a point when our coping mechanism for handling the stress

or trauma of our job becomes dysfunctional. This secondary or vicarious trauma is usually

caused by long term witnessing of traumatic events and can be in response to personal

interactions, organizational structure, societal constraints, structural violence or a natural

disaster. Laura van Dernoot Lipsky, in her 2009 book Trauma Stewardship, describes sixteen

symptoms of secondary trauma: feeling helpless and hopeless, a sense that one can never do

enough, hyper vigilance, diminished creativity, inability to embrace complexity, minimizing,

chronic exhaustion/physical ailments, inability to listen, deliberate avoidance, dissociative

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moments, sense of persecution, guilt, fear, anger and cynicism, inability to empathize/numbing,

addictions, or grandiosity: an inflated sense of importance related to one’s work. Reading

through this list, it appears that many of us are living with some combination of secondary

trauma. Our adaptation to or perception of these symptoms listed above can adversely affect our

family, social life, work capacity, and mental/physical health. As a preventative measure it is

important to realistically know ones limits, have a self care routine and a supportive community.

If we are to contribute to the changes so desperately needed in our agencies,

communities, and societies, we must first and foremost develop the capacity to be present

with all that arises, stay centered throughout and be skilled at maintaining an integrated

self. (p.18)

The Nature of Resilience

“The good news is that for most of us, grief is not overwhelming or unending. As frightening as the pain of loss can be, most of us are resilient” (Bonanno, 2009, p.7).

George Bonanno, in his 2009 book The Other Side of Sadness, examines the stages of

bereavement after loss. In a study of survivors and families of victims of the World Towers

collapse on September 11, he found that resilience is the norm rather than the exception.

Resilience is defined here as: an outcome pattern following a potentially traumatic event

characterized by a stable trajectory of healthy psychological and physical functioning.

In more resilient people it is noted a tendency not to use avoidance or denial as a coping

strategy. They are less inclined to evade thinking about the loss or to deliberately occupy

their mind to avoid confronting the pain. (p. 74)

People who cope well with loss usually have a number of positive factors going for them:

better financial resources, better education, fewer life stressors, and a broad network of friends

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and/or relatives they can rely on for emotional support. In any given situation or instance, a

person may be more or less resilient depending on recent history and what else has happened in

their life. There is growing body of research about possible genetic tendencies for resilience

which predispose one’s ability to handle stress and loss with relative ease. One of the specific

psychological characteristics is an ability to adjust to shifting demands in different situations.

Another is the belief that things will somehow turn out OK. Along with optimism and self

confidence these people seem to inherently have enough mental flexibility to strategically use a

range of available resources in times of grief or loss. Sometimes it is just the attitude of

“whatever gets you through the night” or, as Bonanno says, “coping ugly.”

Ecosystems’ Resilience

Many social and natural phenomena – societies, economics, ecosystems, climate systems – are complex evolving webs of interdependent parts whose collective behavior cannot be reduced to a sum of parts; small, gradual changes in any component can trigger catastrophic and potentially irreversible changes in the entire system that can propagate in domino fashion, even across traditional disciplinary boundaries. (George Sugihara- theoretical biologist at Scripps Institute of Oceanography)

Today there are a number of research groups investigating the resilience capacity of

natural systems which make up this planet. For example, the Stockholm Resilience Centre is

monitoring what they call the nine planetary boundaries: stratospheric ozone layer, biodiversity,

chemical dispersion, climate change, ocean acidification, freshwater consumption and global

hydrological cycle, land system change, nitrogen and phosphorus inputs to the biosphere and

oceans, and atmospheric aerosol loading.

In 1973, Canadian ecologist C.S. (“Buzz”) Holling, founder of the Resilience Alliance,

introduced his theory which begins with two radical premises: first, is that humans and nature are

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strongly coupled and co-evolving and should be considered one system, “social-ecological.”

Second, is that we live in a complex adaptive system which is in constant flux, highly

unpredictable, and self-organizing, with feedback loops in time and space. In this theory,

resilience science looks at change within system from incremental to radical and tries to identify

the tipping point when one state changes to another, perhaps irrevocably. On their website, the

Resilience Alliance defines resilience as follows:

Ecosystem resilience is the capacity of an ecosystem to tolerate disturbance without

collapsing into a qualitatively different state that is controlled by a different set of

processes. A resilient ecosystem can withstand shocks and rebuild itself when necessary.

Resilience in social systems has the added capacity of humans to anticipate and plan for

the future. Humans are part of the natural world. We depend on ecological systems for

our survival and we continuously impact the ecosystems in which we live from the local

to global scale. Resilience is a property of these linked social-ecological systems (SES).

"Resilience" as applied to ecosystems, or to integrated systems of people and the natural

environment, has three defining characteristics: [1.] the amount of change the system can

undergo and still retain the same controls on function and structure [2.] the degree to

which the system is capable of self-organization [3.] the ability to build and increase the

capacity for learning and adaptation. (Resilience Alliance, 2002, “Resilience,” para. 1)

Just as when a traumatized person becomes dysregulated and can potentially “feel” their

way back, many of our ecological systems are dysregulated due to human impact, and the

question is, how will these traumatized ecosystems find their way back?

I included this chapter on stress, grief, trauma and the nature of resilience because as

chaplains this is often what we bear witness to. By understanding the nature of a dysregulated

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system we are more able to strategically support resilience in ourselves and the systems we find

ourselves in. Peter Levine states that “the nervous system cannot be exploratory, curious,

searching, looking and be traumatized at the same time” (2005, p. 65). Our urban niches of

wildness, the garden, can be such a place to explore with a curiosity. A garden offers a place to

nurture and grow appreciation of sensory rich diversity of planetary life. The garden is a place to

explore where ecosystems meet forms, patterns and life cycles within a contained environment.

In the next chapter we hear from Lois Hickman, and about her 30+ year practice as an

occupational therapist using the wisdom of nature to support and assist individuals along the

autistic spectrum integrate with their world.

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Importance of outdoor play 1) Outdoor play is a critical factor in healthy child development. 2) The quality of the outdoor play environment can affect the child’s perception of it. 3) Nature plays an important part in play in the development of the child. 4) Intervention of play leaders/therapists can extend the range of play. 5) Children of all abilities have an equal right to play opportunities. 6) Indoor/outdoor links are important in encouraging use of the outdoor environment.

(Herbert, 2003, pp. 15-16)

Chapter 5

Nature Therapy and Jenlo Farm Lois Hickman (MS, OTR, FAOTA) of Jenlo Farms, in Lyons, Colorado, is a pioneer of

“Nature Therapy.” She practices as an occupational therapist, working with individuals along the

autistic spectrum and their families, on her one acre farm with ducks, chickens, fish, rabbits,

dogs, pigs, llama, goats, Permaculture gardens, music and extended family. Lois has been

working in this field for 30+ years and has trained many people in this mode of therapy,

including myself. This interview is an example of taking a professional practice such as

occupational therapy and the value-added effect of using therapy in a natural setting. Combining

her expertise as an occupational therapist and love of the natural worlds, a gentle but fierce Lois,

has been able to calm, focus and facilitate individuals, many of whom the medical profession has

given up on. It is a short interview so I included it as one of two explorations into the healing

effects of gardens in places of suffering.

Interview by Karen with Lois Hickman about her work at Jenlo Farm -

November 30, 2012

K- How would you describe what you do?

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L- It is Earth-centered occupational therapy. I hate to put parameters around it which makes

“Earth” sound insignificant. It is connecting with the Earth, with other animals, and with who we

truly are as human animals.

K-When did you start working with kids and nature as a therapeutic setting?

L- It started with my first job, at Memorial Hospital in Boulder, Colorado. The hospital was

located against open space, Boulder’s “green belt.” It was a special treat for children to be

outside, where they could work on balance, visual perception, motor planning on the hillside, in

the real world. In the clinic, we often had projects involving real work, such as making soap,

bread or butter or ice cream, which involve following directions, planning, muscle power, and

the reward of completing a project that you can then enjoy.

At The Children’s Hospital in Denver, we’d put on our backpacks to walk around the

downtown, four-corners neighborhood to meet neighborhood children and hear their stories, and

to find the kinds of plants that grow in a city. We would visit a llama farm; take the bus to the

zoo, all in addition to doing “traditional” therapy in the hospital clinic.

I worked with a social worker and a speech therapist to start an Outward Bound type of

camp in Breckenridge, Colorado, where the children experienced being together in a setting with

very few amenities. Among other experiences, they rafted, went on high ropes courses, did

overnight camps on the trail, and their therapy was woven into their everyday camping

experiences. At a clinic in Niwot, Colorado, we would go on nature hikes to look for a family of

owls. We would visit a goat farm nearby to visit all their animals, and even made instant cocoa

with hot milk straight from the goat.

I’ve taken my life experiences, occupational therapy training, my understanding of

neurology, and my increasing awareness that all our basic skills and senses have grown in direct

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relations to the Earth, and incorporated it into my therapy. Eventually, the opportunity came to

help purchase Stonebridge Farm [a Community Supported Agriculture farm] and JenLo Farm, so

that I could base my home and my practice completely in a natural setting. A child may be

defensive to touch, but when the raspberries are ripe, winding your way through the rows of

raspberry canes isn’t a problem because the ripe juicy berries are worth the discomfort! Fear of

being off the ground [gravitational insecurity] could be overcome when the child would ride in a

wheelbarrow over bumpy ground, or even swing from a rope to jump into the irrigation ditch,

into the strong arms of a therapist. At JenLo Farm I could add rabbits, goats, fish, chickens and

ducks, and a pig, in addition to the family cats and dogs.

K -How do you know what to do with the children, what they need to work on?

L- Before beginning therapy at the farm, we often do a standardized test of sensory integration to

determine each child’s strengths as well as what they need help for. Information from parents,

physicians, teachers, or other health professionals is very helpful. I also observe the child’s

reactions when they first visit the farm; what are they attracted to and what do they find

uncomfortable? Children along the autistic spectrum may relate to the chickens, which have a

more basic, reptilian brain and are less complex in their social interactions. Children can also

reveal their social development in the kinds of play they engage in; in which animals they

pretend to be. Some will pretend to be lizards, snakes, or dinosaurs, and their movements may

emulate these animals. As they progress in therapy, their posture, their movements, and their

play may become more “mammalian” and they’ll pretend to be puppies or bears, for example.

So, therapy is a combination of evaluation, observation, and heart, body, and mind - felt

interaction. I’d like to mention the importance of music and storytelling in therapy, elements that

are naturally a part of nature and of the human experience. The rhythm and the story you use

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should blend naturally into the child’s movements and feelings, and gently help them move on to

the “next level” of their development.

People are hungry to connect with the real world, I’ve found. Students and instructors

have visited JenLo Farm from around the country, and from Japan and Ireland, curious about

how to integrate the natural world with therapy. They begin to understand how this is done on

their visits here. This connection, they learn, is ancient wisdom. It is even beyond words, and it is

very real. Words can even belittle the experience in a way, because words tend to take a living,

natural experience and turn it into a theory that must be “proven”. It is ordinary and sublime at

the same time, and on this one acre, I hope that this understanding makes a difference to those

who visit here. This connection with the earth is not a new theory, a boxed-in idea that can be

sold in a package. That’s not the point. It is waking up to what is real and meaningful in our

lives.

K - How do you work with the kids and plants at JenLo Farm?

L - One simple example is having children plant pumpkin seeds in the greenhouse in early

spring. When the weather is right, they prepare the soil, transplant the seeds outside, water and

care for the plants all summer, and finally, when the pumpkins are ready to be harvested, they

take their pumpkin home where they can have fun helping their mom make a pumpkin pie. They

learn a lot about cycles, the needs of the soil and of the plants, and they’re proud of what they’ve

learned. Another example is learning which plants the rabbits like to eat, and how to discriminate

between dandelions, mallow, clover, alfalfa, and between grass that is soft to pull and grass that

hurts to pull (this involves both tactile and visual discrimination, and visual figure-ground

perception.) The children dig potatoes, help plant trees, climb the apple trees low branches, help

trim plants, and gather kindling for the farm’s wood stove. Last summer, one of the Japanese

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professors was also a professional tree climber who taught the children to safely use climbing

equipment to climb a sturdy cottonwood tree.

The farm’s small dogs are an important part of therapy. They are loving and soft and

warm to touch. Children who are excitable or hyperactive know that they must be calm in order

for the dogs to be comfortable around them. By approaching Mollie, the little poodle/Bichon dog

in a calm manner, she is calmed and they are calmed as well. It’s reciprocal with her, and with

the other animals as well. Rabbits are another very tactile and calming animal. Holding a rabbit

gently and firmly, maybe even feeling its heartbeat, is a way to truly feel a connection with the

animal. And, interacting with an animal can be the first step toward interacting more easily with

other humans.

The activities the children are engaged in are a natural part of what needs to be done on

the farm, so most of therapy happens outside. As one child expressed it, “At our house we make

up the chores, but here, they’re real.” Some of the activities are done in a therapy building, a

converted Welding Shop that became the “Melding House,” and this building has some of the

traditional swings, ramps, and other equipment you might find in a hospital or outpatient clinic.

I guess to summarize, I would say that therapy on JenLo Farm, interacting with the earth,

with gardening and with the animals, helps the children, teenagers, and adults who come here (as

well as the visiting therapists who come to learn), is helping them engage in who they really are.

We are of the earth, not isolated. There is a deep longing to feel this connection, and the

connection is healing.

Interview Commentary

11 years ago, when interning with Lois, I asked why there were so many children

exhibiting problems with attention and learning challenges, especially along the autistic

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spectrum. She said many of these kids just don’t want to be here, they don’t want to be in their

body. Too many children today have such structured lives that they don’t get to play in a natural,

timeless way and test life out for themselves. Integration with their senses is part of the therapy

at JenLo as well as developing empathy through felt sense first with the plants, chickens, then

small mammals, finally human. It is all done with great love and care in the setting of a small,

somewhat chaotic farm with gardens. Lois Hickman’s work with nature therapy and the autistic

spectrum is only one of a number of studies that examine how at risk children benefit from being

in a “Green setting.” Many of these children have been able to develop connection and respect

for nature as well as a whole body sensory integration in a way that is fun and builds practical

life skills. According to the Royal Horticulture Society’s Moving Up and Growing On report on

gardening in the schools and special needs kids,

Gardening provides a common ground for children […] Gardening offers children an

escape from their frustrations […] Gardening offers children a different perspective

[…]Gardens create a safe space for a child who is vulnerable […] Gardening offers a

route back into education […and] Gardening can open a child’s eyes to future

possibilities. (Royal Horticultural Society, 2011, “Moving up and Growing On,” p. 5)

Gardens developed for special needs individuals emphasize a full sensory experience,

calm, safe environment, as well as engagement in meaningful work. Kuo & Faber, with the

University of Illinois, have been looking at different ways access to green space can positively

impact community and the children of Chicago’s inner city. Related to Lois’s work, Faber, Kuo

& Sullivan have found that

Children with ADD can support their Attentional functioning and minimize their

symptoms simply by spending time in green settings. More specifically, children with

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ADD might use these findings in the following ways. First, before engaging in attention

demanding tasks such as schoolwork and homework, ADD children might maximize

their Attentional capacity by spending time in green settings. Second, ADD children

might reduce the overall severity of their symptoms by spending time in green settings on

a daily basis. (Environment and Behavior, 2001, “Coping with ADD: The Surprising

Connection to Green Play Settings.”)

Lois’s practice includes finely tuned observational skills, gentle coaching through play

and music, a deep understanding of the senses, and her embodied presence. She often speaks

about the hunger people have to connect to the natural world. Children who come for therapy at

Jenlo often don’t want to leave and many come back to visit after their therapy has concluded.

When visiting Jenlo, a small pack of dogs rush out to greet me, chickens squawk in the distance,

and I deeply breathe in a semi wild, nurtured land bursting with life.

In the next chapter, we will look at the newly planted lavender garden in a domestic

violence safe house. After just a few short months of being planted, the Lavender garden has

positively influenced those who work and stay at the safe house.

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Chapter 6

Lavender Garden at Esperanza To give some background information about the domestic violence safe house where

Lavender Garden was built, I will review a few statistics about domestic violence given in a

2012 volunteer training program at Esperanza Shelter for Battered Families. Forty years ago,

domestic violence (DV) was the number one cause of premature death in women worldwide:

higher than disease, childbirth, or automobile-related deaths. In 2005, DV related homicides

ranked 3rd in America. Northern New Mexico has the second highest rate of DV in the U.S. 85-

95% involve a male batterer and female victim. 31% of women studied in America report being

physically abused by an intimate partner at some point in their life. Studies have also found that

child abuse occurs in up to 70% of families that experience domestic violence. Women (or men)

and their children usually leave an abusive relationship, on average, seven times before finally

severing ties. This shelter often sees repeated visits of clients and even multiple generations of

battered women coming into the safe house. When clients check into the safe house, they are

often in shock, emotionally raw, many with small children or pregnant, and most have been

chronically traumatized. It is a constant challenge to get nonprofit funding for DV as the general

public often perceives domestic violence as an internal family problem rather than a societal

problem. In searching the web for information about DV, I did not find any reference to the use

of gardens in a domestic violence safe house. Gardening does have a healing and self-regulating

effect. Reflecting on my personal experience with domestic abuse, I suspect that there are many

individuals within unstable family systems who use their gardens therapeutically for self-

regulation and healing.

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Creating Lavender Garden

I first heard about the neglected garden at Esperanza Shelter for Battered Families when

training as a domestic violence volunteer. It took until midsummer before I could actually see

the courtyard space. Esperanza’s safe house is the largest domestic violence shelter in Northern

New Mexico. It is housed in a big, rambling building surrounded by scraggly trees, hard packed

earth, two playgrounds for the little ones, and a walled-in courtyard garden off the kitchen. Also

on the property is a storeroom with free supplies and clothes for the residents (many of whom

left home with only the clothes on their back) and a small casita for children’s play therapy. I

was introduced to the garden as a lavender garden in need of work. In a 12’ by 20’ space, there

was a big Russian sage in the corner, several stunted lavender bushes, dry cracked earth, an

assortment of empty flower pots and lots of trash. Along 2 sides of the garden space is a cement

sidewalk with an assorted mix of recycled lawn furniture. This was what had survived after

several years of New Mexican drought and neglect. My first day was spent cleaning up the

property, finding old tin cans, broken glass, discarded clothing, plastic junk, and so many

cigarette butts in the scorching hot sun. Soaking the garden for a couple of hours began to bring

life back to the parched earth. Returning two weeks later, I found that someone had continued to

water the garden, and with the watering came weeds that towered over survivor plants. The

garden was alive but had refilled with trash. I brought in some perennials that had been given by

friends, store bought compost, and eight bags of mulch that a local garden shop had donated.

The next day, a group of freshman students from Colorado College came to volunteer at

the shelter. Now I had a crew of four enthusiastic teenagers along with five resident kids, ages

two to five, who wanted to help. In six hours we weeded, composted heavily, transplanted and

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mulched. The crew traded off supervising the little ones, who loved digging, watering, and

carrying stones. Students worked wholeheartedly and told me stories of their own childhoods,

none with gardens. As we worked I explained why we were building the soil, the life of

mycelium beneath the soil and how to think about gardening in hot, arid, Northern New Mexico.

Together, within a day, we created a healing garden space. Mixed in with gardening were a

number of deep conversations about what moves us in life. Sherry and Jeanette came by

beaming with hugs all around. I walked away from the experience uplifted and enriched by our

collective sharing, teaching, and revitalizing this little plot of land.

Checking on the garden two weeks later, I met two women talking together in the early

morning chill. They both told me how often they sat out in this peaceful garden. One of them,

Grandma, was in a wheelchair. She’s the one who had been tending this garden, watering when

she could and enlisting others to help. There was very little trash in the garden and none of the

cigarette butts which still littered the yard outside of the garden wall. This garden had been cared

for. Young resident children came out to play in the garden, new kids this time. I hooked up the

hose and we took turns watering with a new sprinkler as the last one had disappeared. Grandma

promised to keep an eye on the garden and water with the help of the little ones.

Next time I came back, Lupe, a local social worker who had planted the lavender several

years ago, told me how much she appreciated the work that had been done. She is using the

space in the morning for group work and recommends the residents to sit outside in the garden

before the kids wake up, preparing for the day. One of the residents, accompanied by her young

son, shook my hand and told me how much she appreciated having a garden to look at and be in.

Ah, these little things! The garden is being used! It is being kept tidier, minimal trash, no

smoking or at least no cigarette butts are lying around. All the plants seem to be happy and

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thriving. I transplanted some lamb’s ear from my garden which spreads quickly and has blue

flowers the bees love. Several of the social workers said they would bring in plants from their

gardens in the spring to add in the mix. Slowly, slowly a transformation is happening.

Collectively we are carving out a niche of beauty and peace, in what had been a neglected corner

within a sprawling complex.

Nov 28, 2012- Interview with Sherry Taylor, Executive Director of Esperanza, about the

Lavender Garden

Several months into the garden project, I sat down with Sherry and asked for her

perspective on the Lavender garden.

Sherry: “In the past 40 years we have come a long way to change awareness about

domestic violence. I see that being outside separates people from their trauma by being

part of something growing and flourishing. Depression and isolation is a big part of

domestic violence. Being outside, growing, building something for the future is

empowering. With the isolation of DV there is a high probability of feeling stuck in

space and time. Gardens give a feeling of being part of the future. It provides hope and

inner strength. Sunlight also is important. Around growing plants, you are part of

something good. [The garden] also provides a safe place to be.”

For Sherry, gardening is great resource, which enables her to do the challenging work

with DV. She started gardening after a divorce, moving large boulders by hand to create a rock

garden in Nevada. Moving to Santa Fe about 5 years ago, she bought a small house with a great

view and a packed dirt back yard. The first thing they did after moving was to dig up the back

yard, plant trees and put in a drip irrigation system. Building a garden is a creative process for

her, working with what is available. Over five years, Sherry’s backyard garden has become an

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oasis in the desert and provides ongoing pleasure for the family. Birds now flock in the trees, and

the plants are thriving. Her four year old granddaughter often plays in the garden and is curious

about the life within, birds, bugs, and plants. In reflection, Sherry feels she inherited a strong

sense of connection to the land from her grandmother; a grandmother was a member of the

Choctaw tribe, a group of indigenous, nomadic farmers in the Mississippi River Valley.

Commentary on the Lavender Garden Project

In both of these case studies, Sherry and Lois referred to gardens as being a strong

resource for themselves and those they work with. The garden at Esperanza shelter is still in

formation. It will be interesting to see how it evolves over time and what role it will play at the

shelter. What I witnessed in a short time was once we developed the garden; both residents and

staff began to honor the space. I also felt strongly supported by the director and staff who

appreciate the work done and are beginning to integrate the garden into their therapy work.

Esperanza means “hope” in Spanish. In times of crisis, it is often hope that carries us

through. Hope that the situation will improve, our loved one will recover, or we will get the

resources we need to continue on. Active hope is when hope is made real by action. What steps

can be taken to pull out of a crisis situation? What resources can be made available to prevent

repeating the crisis or trauma situation from occurring again? Gardening or just being in a

garden as a refuge is a valuable tool to assist and support an individual or community through

change.

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A working definition of Spirituality: “Spirituality is that aspect of humanity that refers to the way individuals seek and express meaning, purpose and experience. Their connectedness to the moment in self, to others, to nature, to the significant.” (Halifax – Upaya Chaplaincy Training, August, 2011)

Chapter 7

San Francisco General Hospital’s Comfort Garden In this chapter we will explore some of the ways a healing garden can be used by

chaplains. At San Francisco General Hospital (SFGH), chaplains have integrated the hospital’s

Comfort Garden as part of their practice. This example shows how through creative thinking and

a supportive administration, a garden may provide refuge to all who work and enter into a

hospital setting. Using Paget & McCormack’s four broad roles of a chaplain as a framework, in

the second section I offer suggestions on practical ways a chaplain can integrate the resource of a

garden into their practice.

Comfort Garden at San Francisco General Hospital

In 2007, as coordinator for Sojourn Multi-Faith chaplaincy at San Francisco General

Hospital (SFGH), Chaplain Elizabeth Welsh delivered an address about the Comfort Garden at

SFGH to the American Association of Landscape Architects. This garden was built in 1990 to

commemorate members of the staff at SFGH who had died. In her address, she describes

introducing new chaplains to the Comfort Garden as a place of renewal, a place to come after a

difficult visit, or during a challenging day. Various spiritual rituals have been observed in the

garden space, rituals which connect the four directions, four elements, and change of seasons, all

of which have meaning in a number of religious traditions. Yearly remembrance services are

held to commemorate the loss of staff and patients, and to support the grief process of patients,

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their loved ones and staff. Other chaplains have used the Comfort Garden as a place of

ceremony, to bless individuals and their families before a surgery, preparation for a journey or

departure for military service, or to mark life transitions such as births, weddings or a memorial

service. Weekly services or study groups of different faith groups are held in the garden, weather

permitting. Chaplain Welsh points out that what can be done within the Comfort Garden depends

on the group, what their needs are, institutional constraints, and the creativity of the chaplain.

In a 1995 study done by the Center for Health Care Design, fifty individuals (staff and

patients) were interviewed, all of whom visited the Comfort Garden on a regular basis. The

results shown are consistent with other studies about gardens used in a place of suffering.

Percent of Respondents Reporting Various Types of Mood Changes (Comfort Garden, SFGH)

Percent Calmer, contented, sleepy, more relaxed, less stressed: 68

Better, more positive, pleased: 26

Refreshed, stronger: 16

Helps me think through problems: 10

Moves me, a religious connection: 6

Escape from work: 4

No difference in mood: 4

(Number of respondents: 50) (Marcus et al., 1995, Center for Health Care Design.)

In this study done by the Center for Health Care Design we see that the garden has a

positive effect on moods for the majority of people who visit the Comfort Garden on a regular

basis. From a nurse’s perspective, psychiatric nurse Laurie Barkin wrote The Comfort Garden

(2012), her account of five years spent on the trauma surgery unit at SFGH. Woven throughout

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her story are anecdotes of how she was able to use the Comfort Garden and her home garden

when vicarious trauma from her work became overwhelming. These three perspectives all point

to the proven asset of having Comfort Garden on the grounds of SFGH.

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“Contemplative Care is the art of providing spiritual, emotional, and pastoral support, in a way

that is informed by a personal consistent contemplative or meditation practice” (Giles & Miller,

2012, p. xvii).

Chapter 8

Garden as Sacred Space – the Role of a Chaplain Paget & McCormack’s book, The Work of a Chaplain (2006), outlines the four most

common roles a chaplain must be competent in, for a number of faith traditions (pp. 14-35).

After reviewing these four roles, I will reflect on how these could be interpreted from an inner

chaplaincy perspective informed by the Soto Zen tradition and suggest applications in the sacred

space of a garden. In the concluding summary I will weave together the threads of this paper into

a tapestry to contribute to the field of environmental chaplaincy.

1. Chaplain as Religious or Theological representative - To be a religious witness and

representative to one’s faith group, as well as having an intellectual understanding of diverse

religious beliefs and practices.

2. Chaplain as Spiritual or Pastoral care provider - This includes the ability to do spiritual

assessment, offer counsel, act as a mediator, and provide appropriate spiritual care or refer out.

3. Chaplain as Healer - As a healer, the chaplain is concerned with a person’s holistic

condition – physical, psychological and spiritual. Therefore the healing function of chaplaincy

encompasses key skills that address the whole person: being present, listening, encouraging,

intervening in crisis, and teaching or providing information.

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4. Chaplain as Intercessor - Advocate and Liaison - The chaplain engages within an

institution or larger community through writing, leading committees, teaching classes or a

variety of other ways.

Related to #1 – Chaplain as Religious or Theological representative.

Inner Chaplaincy – The ground from which my practice as a Zen Buddhist chaplain arises

is a daily contemplative practice of meditation and a formal vow to practice the precepts, which

is a set of ethics similar in many ways to the Judeo/Christian Ten Commandments. By

cultivating a daily practice of stabilizing the mind and deep self reflection through meditation, I

am more able to differentiate my thoughts and habits from others and to put aside personal bias

when in service to another. The precepts act as ethical guideposts to support an upright life and

to reflect on when I find myself in a morally questionable position. This combination of an

ongoing contemplative practice and an ethical value system supports my presence and capacity

as a chaplain.

Outer Application – A common theme in many spiritual traditions is reverence for life.

The wisdom teaching of all planetary life being interconnected and interdependent is also found

in a number of faith groups. Throughout this paper we have seen that being in a natural setting

has a healing effect. In times of personal crisis, the natural world reminds us of the cycles within

cycles of birth, life and death. Deeply religious experiences are often felt in the presence of the

“Great Church,” in both wilderness ecology and the wildness of an urban garden. As seen by the

example of SFGH’s Comfort Garden, a garden setting is supportive of weekly religious services

with different faith groups. Ceremonies or rituals which mark passages in life can be performed

in a garden setting, enhanced by the calm and beauty which surround it.

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Related to #2 - Chaplain as Spiritual or Pastoral care provider.

Inner Chaplaincy – Returning to the Zen Peacemakers’ three tenets: 1. Not Knowing. Be

present and grounded through embodied awareness; 2. Bearing Witness. Practice

unconditionally taking in what is happening around us, using all of our faculties: cognitive,

sensory and interoception; 3. Loving Action. What tools do I have at the present moment, which

would best serve the situation with loving action? These three tenets have been invaluable to my

life. Before I engage in practice as a chaplain, or any challenging situation, I try to take a

moment to clear the mind and let go of any expectations about what or whom I am going to

meet. This allows me space to be open, present in the moment, and to witness what is actually

going on. This pause and observation prepares me to more appropriately and lovingly feel into

what is needed. Also, sitting in a garden or walking in a natural setting allows us to pause and

refresh when we have been in a challenging situation, or as an ongoing practice after work to let

go of the stress of the day before entering home life.

Outer application – A hospital or hospice garden provides sanctuary to safely express

grief and sorrow, when all around uncertainty, fear, or the pain of loss is acute. In places of

loneliness, despair or the slow ebbing of life force, a garden can offer solace that we are not

alone; we are connected to a much larger stream of life. A garden offers the privacy to be with

another in silence or to have an end of life discussion in a resourced ecology. We may serve by

taking someone in recovery outside into the sunlight or simply opening a window to view a tree.

Having a live plant or flowers in a patient’s room can connect them to a living process and offer

a medium for conversation. A number of faith traditions practice a form of continuing bond

which maintains relationship with those who are deceased. This can be done through

photographs, an altar, shrine or living plants. At SFGH, plants have been donated in honor of a

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deceased member of the community so the living can enjoy their beauty. We planted a tree with

my grandmother’s ashes in its roots to have a living reminder of her. Memorial gardens can be

created to commemorate groups of individuals or a tragic event.

Related to #3 – Chaplain as Healer.

Inner Chaplaincy – Joan Halifax proposes another approach to service through her

G.R.A.C.E model: Gathering attention, Recalling intention, Attuning to self/other, Considering,

and then Engaging (Halifax, 2012). Both the GRACE model and the three tenets address the

need for reflective consideration before acting as opposed to reacting. This process varies person

to person and situation to situation, hence the need for being open to what is arising in the

moment. The more resourced we are in our life and in the community, the more we have to offer

those we serve.

Outer Application – In my interview with Lois, she spoke of how she combined her

expertise as an occupational therapist with the healing effect of a natural environment. From

personal experience and the literature I’ve read, the ability to listen deeply, without judgment or

bias, is one of the fundamental tools of a chaplain. The act of intimately being with another with

loving kindness, so they feel not alone in a time of crisis or life transition, often brings stability

and deep healing within the act itself. Our ongoing practice is one of being a calm resourced

presence in these crisis situations. As a chaplain the question is, how can we use our skills of

deep listening, mediation, intervention or teaching, with the added benefit of being in a garden

setting?

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Related to #4 – Chaplain as Intercessor: Advocate and Liaison.

Inner Chaplaincy – We are first an advocate for our self before we can truly advocate for

another. How resourced are we in our life? Do we have a lifestyle to support good health? Are

there family members, community members who support and nourish our life? Do we have

associates and mentors to reflect and learn from our practice as a chaplain? We and those we

work with are all embedded in systems: family systems, cultural systems, faith systems,

environmental systems. As much as we work towards an outcome being a certain way, part of

the practice is letting go of outcome. Often suffering is caused by investing in projected outcome

which is out of our control.

Outer Application – Part of our work is advocating for those who are not able to advocate

for themselves. This can be done in liaison with other medical professionals, by connecting

family members, or by finding other spiritual support when requested. As Chaplain Elizabeth

Welch refers people to Comfort Garden, we also can advocate for a garden to be developed

where we work, or begin to use already existing gardens in creative ways. At Upaya Zen Center,

we learn about Engaged Buddhism as an extension of Chaplain Leadership. With Engaged

Buddhism there are two interdependent dimensions which are considered. 1. Service level –

Providing a ground of inner transformation that allows us to interact in a world of suffering with

organizations/coaching/hospice care. This is individual transformation work. 2. Social

Transformation – Transforming levels of structural violence (Halifax, 2012, Upaya Chaplaincy

Training). With this in mind, I see the value of a chaplain’s practice in a healing garden or “green

spaces,” as well as community organization and the building of urban gardens. Reverend Sarah

Vehasi in her practice as Eco-Chaplain, and environmentalist scholar Joanna Macy’s work of the

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Great Turnings, both address the importance of what we do today as it will impact distant future

generations.

On a much larger scale, as I mentioned in the introduction to this paper, we have reached

a point in human history where the majority of our population lives in urban areas. With a little

creative thinking, Urban renewal gardens are a practical way to help rejuvenate our cities and

reintroduce to our children the planetary web of life through connection to the land and the

growing of food. In Appendix C are examples of different groups using the medium of gardens

as a vehicle for social action, to rehabilitate prisoners, educate at risk youth, integrate immigrant

farmers, and rebuild broken neighborhoods.

Summary

In this paper I have investigated the question of what is environmental chaplaincy

through the medium of a cultivated garden in places of suffering. These places of suffering in

America are more widely thought of as hospitals, nursing homes or hospice care centers.

Developing a garden as sanctuary has a much larger application as I explored in the interview

with Lois Hickman at JenLo and in building a garden at Esperanza’s safe house. There are many

benefits in creating and nurturing a Healing Garden. At JenLo, the children use a natural rich

environment to develop empathy with other forms of life and through play begin to integrate

their inner and outer senses. In a place of traumatized women and children, the garden provides

sanctuary, peace, and the possibility of growing a new life.

In the first two chapters, I laid the ground for this study by looking at some historical uses

of contemplative gardens in places of suffering and current scientific theories on why nature has

therapeutic value. To many this seems like common sense yet in the frantic pace of our human

centric world we can easily ignore the deeper sensibilities which allow us to feel into the web of

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life surrounding us. The third chapter goes deeper into identifying the somatic or felt sense and

understanding the intricacies of how our five senses process the world around us. As the field of

environmental chaplaincy is in its infancy stage, I felt it important to give context for how a

chaplain’s training would apply to environmental advocacy work or community development,

informed by our own internal awareness of the interconnection/interdependence of life.

In a broader Buddhist sensibility, if suffering is a dissociation or separation from the web

of life, then suffering is all around us. The last two chapters look directly at what a chaplain’s

role could be in a garden setting. The healing effect of Comfort Garden at SFGH has been well

researched and is in constant use throughout the year by the staff, patients and chaplains. By

using the four roles of a chaplain as a guideline, I was able to reflect on both the inner and outer

chaplaincy approach to working in a garden setting. Building and working in a garden as a

healing sanctuary as well as for community support is needed throughout the world today. This

paper is offered as a powerful tool of individual resource, for those we serve and as a method of

community transformation.

Dedication

I end this paper with a poem which, in a simple but elegant way, expresses deep respect for

our relationship with the natural world. It was read at Catherine Devereux’s memorial service.

She picked it out with her Chaplain, Dana. To you, Mom, I dedicate this paper.

I know from experience,

Standing deep within a linden tree

In a pouring summer shower,

One will not get wet.

I know from experience

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Sitting very close under a scrub oak tree

In a mountain downpour,

One will not get wet.

I know from experience

When we draw very near to God’s heart

When we stand deep within God’s shelter

We will not be overcome with the drenching pain of life.

Joyce Rupp

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Appendix A

Here are three design guidelines and safety concerns regarding building a Healing

Garden. These guidelines are for a restorative design rather than a producing food design. With

creativity one could do both.

Current Design Guidelines – Ulrich et al. (2006)

Although the design of therapeutic or healing gardens will vary depending on the site conditions,

climate, patient population, and culture, research and experience have produced some basic

design guidelines that have universal application. Developed by Ulrich, these guidelines have

been used to create gardens that have been successfully used in health care settings.1

1. Have a variety of spaces. Research has shown that when individuals are stressed and perceive

themselves as having some control over their situation, they are less likely to experience negative

consequences of stress. A garden that provides a variety of accessible spaces allows individuals

to choose the one that suits their needs at the moment.

2. Provide for social support. Having the support of family and friends is associated with

improved outcomes among ill patients. By offering a quiet space for families to provide support,

patients’ conditions can improve. Gardens should provide spaces that can accommodate groups

of various sizes and are conducive to conversation.

3. Allow for physical movement and exercise. Exercise alleviates stress and elevates mood.

Because they are pleasant places, gardens can encourage patients to move. Gardens should offer

easy way finding and provide destinations that encourage mild exercise.

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4. Provide access to nature and positive distractions. There is a dose-related response to nature

and natural scenes; the more greenery in a garden, the greater the effect on health. Thus, it is

important to make sure that the hardscape (walls, sidewalks, patios, etc.) in a garden does not

dominate the greenscape (plants, trees, and shrubs). A rough guideline is that one-third of the

space should be devoted to hardscape and two-thirds to greenscape.

5. Minimize ambiguity. Individuals who are stressed respond negatively to ambiguous art and

objects. Abstract images and art, which may be challenging and interesting to people who are

well, have been shown to have negative effects on those who are ill. Any design used in a garden

should be easy to interpret and overwhelmingly positive.

6. Minimize intrusive stimuli. Noise, odors, and bright light can cancel out the benefits of a

garden. Thus, it is important to place the garden away from these negative stimuli or to mitigate

their presence in order for the garden to be effective.

Healing Garden Guidelines and Safety - Bruce & Folk (2012)

1. Safe walkways with accessible plantings that become a sensory experience, as well as a way

of experiencing the people-plant connection.

2. Resting areas, seating, stones and log benches that blend the natural and the creative to

produce places for meditation or prayer. These are opportunities to let go, discard the burdens,

even for a little while.

3. Features such as distinctive plantings, sensory experiences, arbors, butterfly gardens, and

fountains that provide destinations are a part of the garden and the journey, but in the design of a

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healing garden is it is important not to over do the planting so that it becomes little more that

confusing, sensory overload that can increase the stress and discomfort. Keep it simple, keep it

comfortable.

4. Plant and non-plant materials that provide multi-seasonal features. Too often the healing

garden is a neglected area after spring flowers or other seasonal displays. Healing needs to

happen throughout the year.

5. Conversation stations, stopping points where families or small groups can pause to visit.

Visiting the healing garden doesn’t have to be a solitary journey.

Safety in the Healing Garden is a valid concern - Bruce & Folk (2012)

1. Solid walkways of brick or concrete are more easily navigated by wheelchair or walker than

gravel or bark chips. Flagstone may be attractive, but is difficult to maneuver in a wheelchair, or

with a cane, or unaided.

2. Curbing along the edges of walks can prevent wheelchair accidents.

3. Frequent resting spots with shade, comfortable chairs, space for a wheelchair or hospital bed,

and sensory plants, statuary or whimsy.

4. Access to water and restrooms is necessary, not only for the patient but companions as well.

Dehydration can be a serious problem.

5. Be cautious in the use of poisonous and dangerous plants. This is one of the often overlooked

factors in the landscaping of a healing garden. There is a multitude of safe plant material that can

be used. Different regions and climates will present different possibilities.

6. Walkways can be lighted for evening and nighttime use. The healing doesn’t stop when the

sun goes down. If the healing garden is going to be accessible in the evening, nighttime and early

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morning hours there needs to be subdued lighting for the walks, seating areas, and illumination

of significant plantings, statuary and whimsy. Multicolored or twinkling lights are sometimes

used but this can overload and limit the therapeutic value of the healing garden. As a matter of

safety access, should be limited after nightfall and staff should accompany patients.

7. One of the frequently overlooked health threats for a healing garden is the use of pesticides,

fertilizers and other lawn & garden chemicals. These materials should be avoided when possible,

and when necessary they must be used with caution.

The healing garden need not be massive, or complex, it does need to be safe and accessible. This

can be the ultimate celebration of the people-plant connection and one of the most significant

applications of horticultural therapy. It is a matter of quality of life for some, a part of the

journey toward healing for many others. This is one of the ways that hospitals, rehabilitation

centers, senior care, cancer treatment, trauma centers, and so many other venues can expand the

ways that healing can take place.

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Appendix B

Attention to Breath

One of the oldest meditation practices is simply focusing on the breath. Here are 2 different

practices.

1. Pay attention to your breath. Is it fast, slow, light, or forced? Take 3 deep breaths filling

up the lungs, with the release of each breath relax into the body. Then listen to your

breath again. What is the nature of the breath now? Do this several times if needed.

2. Put one or both of your hands on your solar plexus, just below the v in your front ribs.

This connects us to the breath as well as the visceral system. The wandering nerves of the

stomach produce more serotonin than the brain. Is your breath rapid, irregular, shallow or

deep?

Slow, Deep, Even breathing focused here can calm and steady our nervous system.

Monitoring our breath patterns gives us information about our inner lives or interoception. Check

in several times a day to observe how your outer life is affecting your inner life. Consciously

slowing down our breath when we are under stress allows us to think more clearly and becomes

less reactive.

Calming the Mind

Thich Nhat Hanh (1998) offers another simple, breathing exercise. As you breathe in

think the first word as you breathe out the second word. This can be done focusing on one phrase

or as a sequence.

In/out

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Deep/slow

Calm/ease

Smile/release

Present moment/wonderful moment

Grounding

The object of this exercise is to sense your connection with the earth. It is easier in a

garden setting because of the abundance of life. Envision a cord running down the spine, through

the legs and deep into the earth. The cord could look like a taproot or your body energy flowing

deep into the ground. This offers a sense of weight, stability and support. Taking a few moments

to ground is useful when we find ourselves unstable, anxious, emotional or flighty.

Awareness of the Five Senses

Our five senses are often taken for granted until something goes wrong or diminishes

with age. This series of sensory awareness exercises helps to develop an appreciation of our five

senses, and can also be used to redirect or open up the mind when stressed or anxious. These can

be done while alone or as a guided meditation, preferable in a garden like setting. Practicing

these exercises helps to bring awareness and develop acuity in the senses. Practice if you can,

with a sense of open curiosity.

1. Gently direct attention to the eyes. How do they feel? With a light gaze, look around,

using near and far vision. What are 5 things you notice with the eyes? When stressed our

focus often closes in, by expanding the vision outward it relaxes the eyes and offers a

larger perspective.

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2. Gently direct attention to the ears. How do they feel? What are the combinations of

sounds you hear close in; in the room or local setting, and then what do you hear in the

far distance. Name 5 things.

3. Gently direct attention to the nose. How does it feel? Take a deep breath through the

nose. What are 5 things you smell, acute and subtle? Bring the attention close in to the

strongest smells then extend outward to sense subtler scent.

4. Gently direct your attention to the taste buds in the tongue. What does the tongue feel

like? Is there any residual taste from what you last ate or drank? Is it dry, moist, or

neutral? Take note. If you smell something nearby, how are you responding?

5. Gently direct your attention to the body. Feel into its location in space. How is your body

responding to this space? What are sensations you feel from the outside. What sensations

do you feel inside the body? If you are moving, note how and where the sensations are.

Rest lightly on the sensations or lack of sensations. Name 5 sensations. Gently tapping on

the skin, hands, arms, feet, legs helps to bring attention to that part of the body. We will

go deeper into proprioception with a body scan.

What is a Body Scan?

A body scan is a quick assessment of how our body is responding, internally and

externally, in the moment. As a spiritual care provider this is important to monitor how we are

handling stress. Is your thinking process clear, breathing calm, heart rate steady, pulse even, gut

relaxed, hands still, and are the muscles around the jaw, forehead, and neck without tension? Or

not? Is your mental focus tight in or expansive, or both and how is your body responding to the

tension? Is the mouth dry or not? It is a useful practice to take time between your patients or

activities at work to listen into the body, resource and self regulate when necessary. It is normal

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to have daily ups and downs of moods and internal sensations. With a body scan we are

monitoring to see if we get stuck to long on high or low or the swings get erratic. Secondary

trauma is residual in the work of a chaplain, the more in touch you are with your body and can

self regulate daily, along with other stability practices, then there is less chance of secondary

trauma unconsciously depleting your life. When we find we have gotten dysregulated, a long

view out a window onto a natural setting or a slow walk in the garden focusing on the sensation

of walking or taking in slow deep breaths, are some easy ways to quickly calm down the nervous

system.

How to Do a Quick Body Scan

To calm and ground bring start the scan from the top of the head down to the feet. If

feeling sluggish, start the scan from the grounded feet bringing focus up to head. I will track

through a body scan from the top of the head to the feet: Feel the sensation on the top of the

head. Feel into the brain. Where are tight areas on the scalp? Is the any sensation inside of the

skull? The visual I use is section by sections moving down the body. Pay attention to tension

also pay attention to areas where sensation can’t be felt. Bring attention down and around the

neck, into the shoulders. Where is there tension, where is there no sensation? Continue this

process down the arms, down the front of the torso, back of the torso, front and back of hips, and

down both legs. Just notice what are the sensations in each part of the body, tensions and lack of

sensations. This part of the body scan is observational.

For the second part of a body scan, bring your attention again to the top of the head. As

you slowly move down the body, when a place of tension is noticed, take a deep breath in the

tension and relax with the out breath. Some spots may need more that one breath to relax. If you

find a place of no sensation, light tap on the place and bring your attention there. Just lightly pay

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attention to any feelings or discomfort that arising. Listen to your body. Most of these sensations

are transitory. When this becomes a practice, you can begin to see patterns of tension, when they

arise and when they are absent.

I would recommend running through a body scan several times a day. With practice, one

begins to develop awareness of the patterns of tension, what parts of the body we avoid, and

slowly, slowly as we listen and pay attention as body mind communication improves. Also with

practice a body scan takes just a few minutes.

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Appendix C

Social Action and Gardens

In 2009, the Wall Street Journal named small farms as one of the most favorable long

term investments. With international food and water shortages, the American Midwest drought

of 2012, and the ripple effect of increasing gas prices, many people are becoming motivated to

learn how to grow their own food. Expanding beyond our grandparents victory gardens, these

urban gardens are also being grown because of a deep seeded need for community which extends

beyond that of a fresh supply of local food. Community development, education, and

rehabilitation are just a few added benefits of this growing movement. Listed below are just a

few examples of how the garden movement has positively impacted: inmates in prison, war

veterans, refugees, and brought together neighborhoods torn up by poverty and drugs.

Prison Gardens

At Riker’s prison, the Horticulture Society of New York (HSNY) GreenHouse program

provides education, counseling, job training, and transitional employment to New York City

inmates. HSNY has worked with inmates at Riker’s since 1986, teaching basic work skills

through a small horticulture and nursery operation. They also do the landscaping around the

greenhouse. Inmates spend time in the greenhouse classroom, learning principles of botany, soil,

and natural science. When inmates were ready for release, the project coordinator tries to find

them jobs in horticulture. HSNY offers paid 9-12 month internships to former inmates to

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maintain gardens at public libraries and in private and public spaces throughout New York City.

http://www.correctionhistory.org/html/chronicl/rikersfarm/rikersfarm4.html

The Insight Garden Program (IGP) at San Quentin rehabilitates prisoners through the

process of organic gardening. By working in nature, participants learn vocational and life skills

so they can practice constructive relationships between themselves, their communities and the

natural environment plus become productive members of society.

http://www.insightgardenprogram.org/overview.html

Resource for Veterans

The VA Southern Oregon Rehabilitation Center and Clinics (SORCC) in White City,

Oregon serves as a mental health rehabilitation and recovery center that serves Veterans with

PTSD, drug and alcohol addictions, and serious mental disorders. The Day Treatment Program

is designed to help Veterans stay active and improve their mental health. In 2002, veterans, staff

and volunteers transformed the patch of muddy land into what is best described as a "Healing

Garden." The energies of countless participants allowed the garden to flourish into a place of

inspiration, relaxation and rehabilitation. "Farming is pretty intensive, and I would say at least

ten to twelve Veterans are actively involved in planting and watering at all times," Dr. Moore

explained. Several program classes have incorporated the use of the Healing Garden, including a

horticulture class, a cooking class that utilizes food grown in the garden, and a tai chi class set

outside by the waterfall.

A garden can offer rehabilitative value in addition to the plants that flourish at the VA's

Healing Garden, proving the Spanish proverb, “More grows in the garden than the gardener

sows.” http://www.va.gov/health/NewsFeatures/20100226a.asp

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Immigrants & Refugees

The New Farmer Development Project identifies, educates and supports agriculturally

experienced immigrants in the NYC region to establish economically and environmentally sound

small-scale farm operations, to preserve regional farmland, strengthen farmers’ markets, and

expand access to high-quality, locally-grown farm products. www.immigrantfarming.org

New Roots Community Farm - When the International Rescue Committee (IRC) broke

ground on the 2.3-acre site, it was nothing more than rocks and weeds. Now, 80 refugee families

have planted a variety of organic crops, and one gardener has sold his first harvest of kale to a

local restaurant. Although the IRC spearheaded the effort, the farm wouldn’t exist without the

efforts of the refugee community, says Amy Lint, the IRC’s community development

coordinator. “We had been thinking about how to provide more nutritious food to the community

but the idea for the farm came from the refugees themselves.”

http://www.rescue.org/news/refugees-plant-new-roots-community-farm-7351

Gardening with At Risk Youth

The Pendleton Community Garden Project (Pendleton, Oregon) is more than just

planting seeds. It is about planting ideas, growing skills, and nurturing leadership and self-esteem

in participants. Extension Family and Community Development, 4-H, and Agriculture faculty

provided leadership in bringing together 22 local agencies to work with at-risk youth and senior

volunteers. Thirty-five at-risk youth and over 100 seniors and community volunteers turned a

vacant lot into a community garden that supplied fresh produce to local food bank recipients and

homebound seniors. Both seniors and youth benefited from this intergenerational partnership,

thus strengthening Extension's leadership role in forging partnerships for sustainable

communities. http://www.joe.org/joe/2004december/iw2.php

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A curriculum for practicing horticulture with at-risk kids:

http://thehort.org/pdfs/hsny_curriculum_for_practicing_horticulture_with_at-risk_youth.pdf

Children and Nature Network: http://www.cnaturenet.org/

Healing Landscapes – links related to autism, children and natural environments:

http://www.healinglandscapes.org/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/Implications-autism-nature-

resources.pdf

Community Garden Projects

Founded in the late winter of 2009, La Finca del Sur was the brainchild of a number of

individuals and organizations working in the South Bronx. This group had a vision that an

empty, unsightly lot on 138th Street could become a beautiful, community-led farm. With the

guidance and support of MoreGardens!, a group of volunteers was mobilized, and La Finca del

Sur was born. In 2010, La Finca del Sur incorporated as a 501c3 nonprofit organization, whose

goal is to address issues of food access, environmental justice, and community empowerment for

women of color and their allies in the South Bronx - and to tie these issues to broader systemic

inequalities and global justice. http://bronxfarmers.blogspot.com/p/about-la-finca-del-sur.html

In the neighborhood known as the Iron Triangle, comfort and serenity can be found at the

corner of 6th and MacDonald, where a once-barren lot is now host to chickens, rabbits, beehives,

and dozens of blossoming garden beds. In and amongst this thriving hub of life, a burgeoning

community has taken root and found peace. But it hasn’t always been this way. Two years ago,

the roughly 2-acre plot of land was nothing but an abandoned parking lot, where the only things

growing were useless weeds and Richmond’s crime rate. But in the heart of the Iron Triangle,

long reputed as one of Richmond’s poorest and most violent neighborhoods, founder

Henderson’s vision has proven itself resilient, transforming the vacant land into a powerful

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resource for community growth. Like most things in life, The Garden of Comfort and Serenity

started as a seed. With input from Richmond’s Youth Build and Self-Sustaining Communities, a

non-profit organization, the hard work and commitment of the founding members has resulted in

not only fresh produce, but changed lives. http://newamericamedia.org/2012/08/troubled-bay-

area-neighborhood-finds-comfort-in-growing-own-food.php

Denver Urban Gardens: A collaboration between Denver and Colorado School of

Public Health. This extensive website is a useful resource about how to build a community

gardens give information about projects around Denver related to gardens. http://dug.org

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