Amazing Effects of Hiking
Conrad Ho (Hong Kong, China)
Mar. 15, 2014
My elder son Yu Yat, 14, is going to grade 9; my younger son Yu Sum, 12, to grade 7. Their academic results are quite good, ranking in the upper-middle range among fellow classmates. Both of them were described as stronger in science subjects when I met their class teachers last week. Yu Yat was said to be best at “information technology”. In fact, he came first in the mid-term examination. Yu Sum was said to be outstanding in mathematics. Actually, he has been winning awards in inter-school competitions of Mathematical Olympia.
As I give lectures outside Hong Kong frequently, I am out of town about half of the year. Whenever I am home, Yu Yat and Yu Sum would take every opportunity to ask me all sorts of questions during dinner time as if to make up for the lost time. I was in Hong Kong last week. The questions they raised included the following:
Why was the Chief Executive of Hong Kong criticized by the public no matter what policy he was putting forward?
Did Hong Kong have any government policy to relieve global warming?
Why did our neighbour’s Golden Retriever bark at the lift when it arrived but before the lift door was opened?
Why did so many birds chirp on the trees downstairs in the mornings of Spring?
Why did Crimea hold a referendum? Why did the Crimean Government suppress protestors with brutal force?
What was “potential energy”? If walking up a hill stocked up potential energy, would jumping off a cliff release it?
I have been answering such questions for years and have become indifferent to them. I just respond to them as they come along. When my wife came back from a business trip two days ago, I told her about my Saddle Mountain hike with our sons on Sunday on March 2. During the conversation, I heard myself blurted out: “I noticed that the things our sons talked about during hiking were different from those at the dinner table.” They would say: “My younger brother is very annoying sometimes!” “The school gives us more and more homework. Sometimes, I am tired out by them and I do not want to stay up late to do them.” “I would like to draw my cartoon as beautiful as possible and to colour it, too!” “This gravel trail is really slippery in the mist. Take care!”
They are asking why’s at the dinner table, seeking to know; they express opinions during hiking, seeking to be known. Furthermore, the former projects one’s attention outwards, mostly around analyses and connecting to the logic brain; the latter directs one’s attention inwards, frequently on feelings and accessing the gestalt brain.
I do not know why there is such a difference. Maybe, the open views on the mountain tend to stimulate the gestalt brain. Moreover, only the mouth is relatively busy at the dinner table. The other senses are more or less idle. It is very different on the mountain: the ears are listening to all kinds of sounds; the nose is smelling various odours; the back-pack is weighing down on the back; the pebbles and mud on the rough trek are protruding up toward the soles of the feet; the hands are holding onto a map; the brain is figuring out one’s own current location; and the eyes are seeing varied colours, lines and shapes, etc. With continuous input of so many different sensory signals, one will be more aware of feelings and sensations, I suppose.
However, as a dad, the point is not on why such a difference emerges, but on how to make use of it. Hiking can stimulate the operations and development of the gestalt brain and thus can balance the over-emphasis of modern schools on the operations and development of the logic brain. The beauty of such an effect is that it is not achieved through repeated training or coercion. It happens naturally and willingly during spontaneous interactions in a leisurely social environment and with a refreshed spirit in a flowing emotional state. Moreover, hiking is beneficial to health. I see no reason not to do such an enjoyable activity.
