Blue spaces

The pioneering psychologist and educator G. Stanley Hall (1846-1924) built upon the discoveries of Charles Darwin and posited the theory that individual human development mirrors the development of the species. Hall was the first president of the American Psychological Association (APA), and is seen by some as the father of modern psychosocial development theory. Contemporary psychologists have challenged many of the concepts of developmental theory. Much of what has become the foundation of educational psychology has been rightly criticized for its lack of understanding of cultural diversity. Psychologists have based their observations on a rather narrow group of humans and not all of their concepts apply well to people outside of their narrow scope of view. Still, there are observations of developmental psychologists that are valuable for contemporary teachers and developmental psychology is still taught in colleges of education around the world.

Without dipping too far into the history of educational psychology, my life’s experience seems to resonate with a bit of G. Stanley Hall’s idea that the life of an individual might reflect the history of the human species. When Homo sapiens first evolved some 300,000 years ago, we lived in grasslands and forests, next to lakes and rivers. It wasn’t until 2007 that humans became a majority-urban species. The move towards urbanization has also meant a move towards the shores of oceans and the earth’s largest lakes. About 40 percent of the people in the United States live in coastal counties. Coastal counties count for less than 10 percent of the nation’s land mass, yet 40 percent of the population lives there.

I grew up a long ways from the coast. I grew up among the cottonwoods at the edge of a mountain stream. I moved out onto the plains and lived most of my adult life where the prairie meets the forest. Then, as I have become an old man, I have moved to the coast. And I have moved to a place where the population is more dense. There are simply more people gathered along the Salish Sea in western Washington than any other place where I have lived.

Experts who study human mental health have long understood that the interaction between people and nature is critical to mental health. Just looking at scenery causes psychological and physiological changes in people that lead to health benefits. These benefits can be measured in salivary cortisol, blood flow, blood pressure, and brain activity. In addition spending time outside in nature brings us into contact with healthy microbes that boost our immune systems and boost the microbial communities in our skin, airways, and guts. It isn’t just that contact with nature makes us feel better - it makes us more healthy in ways that can be measured.

The concept of green spaces as places of therapy has been around for a long time. Psychologists in the 1960’s and 1970’s prescribed wilderness experiences as treatment for anxiety and depression. Their results led to a deeper understanding of the importance of contact with nature for optimal health.

We know that nature is essential to being healthy, but we continue as a species to move to more urban and dense spaces. Researchers, however, have discovered that one of the ways of dealing with increased urbanization is for people to increase experiences of being on the shore. So called “blue spaces” such as ocean, river, and lake shores are places of healing and health. About 10 years ago researchers at the University of Sussex asked 20,000 people to record their feelings at random times. After collecting over a million responses they found that people were by far the happiest when they were in blue spaces. This study was followed up with a recent study at Glasgow Caledonian University that found that spending time in blue spaces lowers the risk of stress, anxiety, obesity, cardiovascular disease, and premature death.

It isn’t formal research, but I know that I feel better when I take an outdoor walk every day. Now that we have moved into a more urban environment, with more traffic, more people, and more crowding, our walks along the beach have become an important part of my ability to maintain balance and remain happy in my life. There is something inherently soothing about the sound of water lapping at the shore. Even on stormy days, when the winds are high and the waves crash, there is something about the rhythm of the ocean that is soothing.

In earlier years of my life, when I had more demands and more stress in my life, I learned to escape in the wee hours of the morning to the lake with a canoe. Paddling was a way of reconnecting with nature and reminding myself that I was part of something much bigger than my self. It became important to me for maintaining psychological health and balance. These days, in my semi-retired lifestyle, I don’t have the pressures and stresses that once were routine in my life and I find that I am paddling less. However, I still seek daily contact with the natural world. I haven’t completely substituted walks along the shore for paddling, and I still love to get out on the water, but I know that just being near a large body of water is a valuable experience.

I have not been prone to depression and I haven’t suffered as those who struggle daily to maintain a positive attitude towards life. The causes of depression are complex and not fully understood, but it may be that my experience with health is due in part to preventive solutions that have found their way into my lifestyle. Regular contact with nature including walks along the shore may be keeping me healthy when others who do not have those experiences have crises arise that require treatment after they have become ill. I’m sure that it isn’t that simple, but I suspect that water and exposure to blue spaces can be part of a lifestyle that promotes health.

For now, I am grateful that I have the opportunity to be near the water on a regular basis. I am fortunate indeed.

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