Even
though in the recent tsunami there was a tremendous
loss of human life, many beings survived, both human
and animal whether by fortune, circumstances, or innate
intelligence. We savor such stories, such as the man
that was adrift for days in the ocean, clinging to a
floating tree. What also caught my eye were the stories
about the animals. Amongst the countless bodies of humans,
not one dead animal was found. Most if not all of the
animals that were near the coast had somehow been alerted
to the danger and took for the higher ground.
In
an excerpt from a Wall Street Journal article, “What
Did the Animals Know and When Did They Know It?”
a fascinating phenomenon was observed:
Just minutes before the tsunami crashed into a southern
Indian wildlife sanctuary, a lighthouse lookout reported
an unusual sight: a herd of antelope stampeding from
the shoreline toward the safety of a nearby hilltop.
"The man said he saw the animals on the seafront
running away from the coast towards the forests,"
said A. D. Baruah, a wildlife warden in the state of
Tamil Nadu, recounting the story of the desperate flight
of the animals as told to him by the startled lookout.
"Ten minutes later the waves hit. The animals had
run to safety."
.
. . at Yala National Park, just up the coast from where
the destruction was most severe, all the elephants,
leopards, deer and other wild animals managed to survive
the mighty waves, said H.D. Ratnayake, deputy director
of the country's wildlife department. "I haven't
seen any effects on the animals," he said.
"They all escaped." Asked to explain
the survival of the animals, he said: "They
had a feeling. Maybe it was the sound waves."
Other stories told of elephants situated in various
locations along the coast of the Indian Ocean, where
some of the most severe damage to life and property
had occurred. Out of Khao Lak, Thailand, came this tale:
Agitated elephants felt the tsunami coming, and their
sensitivity saved about a dozen foreign tourists from
the fate of thousands killed by the giant waves. ''I
was surprised because the elephants had never cried
before,'' mahout Dang Salangam said yesterday on Khao
Lak beach at the eight-elephant business offering rides
to tourists. The elephants started trumpeting in a way
which Dang, 36, and his wife Kulada, 24, said could
only be described as crying at first light, about the
time a massive earthquake cracked open the sea bed off
Indonesia's Sumatra island.
The elephants soon calmed, but began wailing again an
hour later, and this time they could not be comforted.
''They just kept running for the hill,'' said Wit Aniwat,
24, who helps tourists mount the elephants. Those with
tourists aboard headed for the jungle-clad hill behind
the resort beach where at least 3,800 people, more than
half of them foreigners, would soon die. ''Then we saw
the big wave coming and we started running,'' Mr Wit
said.
So how did the animals know? What signals alerted them?
And what can we learn from the animals and their life-saving
behavior?
A
few theories have been proposed, particularly ideas
that the animals were responding to a “sixth sense.”
Yet this sixth sense could more accurately be called
a “first” or “primary” sense,
something that closely guides and determines much of
the behavior of all animals. This primary sense is instinct,
a product of the reptilian brain, that primitive part
of the brain that’s in every species of animal
(including the human animal), bird, or reptile.
This
reptilian or “lower” brain is what governs
our basic survival functions, such as breathing, heart
rate, reproductive drive, and so forth. It’s also
responsible for alerting us to potentially life-threatening
danger. When you have a gut feeling, this is instinct
operating. Sensations in your body are warning you of
some sort of danger, and it’s quite natural to
either fight or flee, yet most of us have learned to
largely ignore these signals from the body that are
warning us of danger.
Much
of this ignore-ance of instinct is due to a number of
factors. First, we’re conditioned to disregard
these signals, starting with our childhood upbringing.
You can’t very well fight or run when you’re
little and you’re threatened by the very adult
caregivers you depend on for your survival. Instead
you learn to freeze in reaction to a tormenting adult,
and this can become a generalized and habitual response
to other potential dangers. While this may have been
adaptive in childhood, it doesn’t necessarily
serve us when carried over into adulthood. In addition,
we learn to shut down our senses and become somewhat
numb, disregarding bodily cues to possible threats.
Another
reason is that we fear losing control. It doesn’t
look very dignified to be running for the hills when
there’s no obvious danger, even though your gut
may be telling you otherwise. The rational mind learns
to override these instinctual urgings, attempting to
provide a false sense of safety. Lastly and perhaps
most importantly, we have to one degree or another become
removed from the natural world, shielded from the earth’s
rhythms and seasons by the trappings of civilization.
Yet
there are stories of some groups of people who were
more attuned to the natural world and, much like the
animals, listened to their instincts and the environmental
cues of the impending disaster. Some tribal peoples
in India and Thailand managed to escape the tidal waves
completely. All 250 members of the Jarawa tribe in India,
a tribe that spans back 70,000 years and still retains
its indigenous roots, fled into the jungle and remained
there for several days. Government officials and anthropologists
believe that ancient knowledge of the movement of the
wind, sea, and birds may have saved them and other tribal
peoples from the tsunami.
In
another instance, a group of Thai fishermen known as
the Morgan sea gypsies saved an entire village of 181
people because of their knowledge of the ocean and its
currents that had been passed down from generation to
generation. The village chief was quoted as saying,
"The elders told us that if the water recedes fast
it will reappear in the same quantity in which it disappeared.”
Unlike some of the Thais who headed to the beach to
pick up flapping fish left on the sand when the sea
drained out of the beaches, the sea gypsies headed for
a temple in the mountains.
The
vast majority of the people in these regions were apparently
not attuned to the environmental and internal physical
cues that foretold of the coming tsunami. Even with
the veneer of contemporary conditioning we respond quickly
to those dangers that are immediate and apparent to
our senses. However, the signs of the looming catastrophe
were less obvious, so in spite of the massive earthquake,
for most there was no reason to expect the killer waves.
And there’s no way to know the realities of those
who were living there, what their thoughts, feelings,
or behavior were prior to the calamity.
The
point is not to denigrate the immense tragedy, but to
draw some lessons not only from the indigenous peoples
but also from the animals, who had no doubts about trusting
their instincts, no hesitation responding to these barely
perceptible cues and heading for the safety of the higher
ground. Perhaps we can draw some lessons from all of
this and learn to slow down, breathe, be still, and
listen more closely to the various sensations in our
bodies, both pleasant and unpleasant ones. Perhaps we
can learn to respect and respond to those physical cues
in spite of attempts by our rational mind to disregard
these often subtle signals. It’s not always an
easy thing to do, such as when you have a gut feeling
that tells you to be cautious with a new acquaintance,
in spite of the fact that everyone in your circle approves
of him.
So
how do you increase your sensitivity to your instinct?
Following are five steps to take to do so:
Breathe—
Every so often during your day, take a few moments to
pause and consciously take 3-4 slower, deeper breaths.
You’ll be surprised at how this can help you be
more aware of your physical sensations and also help
with the next step, which is . . .
Relax—
Not just on a vacation for two weeks out of the year,
but daily. Conscious breathing periodically throughout
the day will consistently help. It will be a pleasant
distraction. When you’re uptight and tense, your
muscles are contracted in a false state of alertness
and your body thinks it’s preparing to run or
fight. Doing so also helps lower your stress level.
Get
Outdoors— Every day, no matter the whether,
spend at least a few minutes outside. This helps keep
you connected to the natural world.
Observe
Animals— Make it a point to get acquainted
with the animals near your home, even if it’s
only the pigeons or squirrels in the nearby park, or
the birds that are in the trees close by. Simply observe
their habits and behavior through the seasons, and they
will teach you.
Connect
with an Animal Spirit Guide— Even those
of us in more urban settings who don’t have regular
exposure to animals in the wild can learn about animals
and instinct from animal spirit guides, such as a power
animal. Finding and developing such a relationship is
the topic of my latest book, Power Animals. I’ll
guarantee that your power animal will teach you about
instinct and how to be more in harmony with the natural
world.
One
of our greatest challenges is not only to find as many
ways as possible to pay attention to our instincts,
but also to reconnect with the natural world. Doing
so helps bring us into greater balance with our rational
minds, which has for centuries tended to dominate our
world and way of life. Restoring the balance in ourselves
will quite naturally lead us to appreciate with greater
depth and understanding how we can work in harmony with
our Earth Mother and all of her children, to give back
to her in gratitude for all that she gives to us.