Overview

Of sacred sounds and shamanic dreaming --> top of page HOME FREE GIFTS Well of Grief Ritual Living With Loss eBook Despacho Guide No Regrets Bundle Conscious Caregiving Series Music for Times of Transition PROJECTS The No Regrets Project Conscious Caregiving BLOG ABOUT Board of Directors Contact Us More Use tab to navigate through the menu items. Kitty Edwards Apr 29, 2026 2 min read Of sacred sounds and shamanic dreaming Childhood is measured out by sounds and smells and sights, before the dark hour of reason grows. ~ John

Information

Betjemin What natural sounds do you remember from childhood? The first thing I think of is the sound of cicadas on a warm summer night in Alabama. The density of their communication wrapped me a blanket of contentment, community and home. Likewise, I remember the lapping of the waters of the Chesapeake Bay when I visited my grandparents on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. The continuous rhythm gave me a sense of security as I drifted into dreamtime. Now scientists tell us what we have always known. Nature sounds have

Section 3

a direct therapeutic effect on us. When we listen to nature sounds, our sympathetic nervous system responsible for the fight or flight response rests, while our parasympathetic nervous system, responsible for metabolism, recovery, and development of the bodies resources, becomes active. Our various soundscapes are made up of biological sources (bird calls, bees humming), geophysical sounds (rain, wind) and anthropogenic noise (traffic, construction). For our health and well-being, it is important to pay attention and listen for natural sounds in our environment. Even in an urban area the wind is

Section 4

whistling and birds are singing. As Earth Day observances come to a close, I step into one of my favorite rituals – a month of natural sound bathing. This month I choose three methods of resourcing natural sounds. Of course the best method is to travel to an isolated location abundant with sound but I am not traveling at the moment, so I will create my sound baths closer to home. On my daily walks I set my intention to listen. In the month of May, snow melt from the

Section 5

watershed of the Rocky Mountains fills our local creeks. I make a point to stop at the creek just north of my home for a 10-minute sound bath. As I listen to the creek water flowing the grackles chatter in a tree nearby, and a flicker tries to peck his way into the eaves of a house. Often the breeze gently invites the spring green leaves to rustle against each other. At work I play a recording of jungle sounds of the rainforest in Borneo. Many years ago, I spent