Willow

It’s about, How do we engage it, but not too much. You said, you referenced, how spending time in nature is always something that stills you, it grounds you, and that’s an important part of the creative process. I have this moment I often think back on when you and I were traveling in Patagonia, and we got to our destination after a whole day of traveling. And we sat by the water, do you remember this? And the wind was blowing on the water and it was going in these, like, circular patterns.

And it just felt like this language. Like, Hey, you’ve arrived, sit, listen. And I really appreciate that that’s something you and I share, is the value of that time just listening to nature. I’m just wondering if you can speak a little bit more to that and how you create time for that intentionally in your life, and the role that nature plays specifically in influencing your music.

Maggie

 I think the creating or out—we’re talking about input, output structures—singing is the most important tool that I have, that I think anyone has. It’s such an ancient tool and when you sing, to me, it’s like resonant therapy. Like my whole body is vibrating and it’s like, whatever needs to be released or comes out or just comes through.

But in order to sing, what you really need to do is listen. Singing is really about a practice of listening because you’re listening to the sound coming out of your mouth, and matching it to what’s in your head. And many times, if you’re in collaboration with other people, you, like, when I’m singing on stage and I’m singing harmony with a band, like I’m guesting, I have almost none of my voice in my monitor.

I need to hear everybody else and I need to hear them way louder than me. ’cause I’ll know what to do if I can hear everybody else. That practice also exists in my life and relationship to nature or to the natural world, which is that without that pause—or without that moment to listen—it’s really easy for the orchestra of everything else going on in my life to be really loud.

And those moments that ask me to stop and listen, I come into a place of presence. That to me is kind of what it’s all about. It’s what the beauty of being on stage is, because when I’m on stage, I’m so present because I’m listening and I’m listening not only to the music, but I’m listening to my environment.

I’m listening to the crowd. I’m trying to sense what they need or what they want, or how I might be of service; and when I can do that, then it becomes about the connection. It stops being about me, which makes me, like, really overwhelmed and freaked out. And it becomes about the way we come together.

And I think that multifaceted process works on both an individual level and collective level. Because I think, you and I both know, that there is just nothing in the world that feels better than screaming the lyrics to your favorite song in a room full of people who also love it, and see you, and know you by knowing that you, too, love this song.

And to me, the stories—that is, like, music or art or sound in its final form, there’s the resting period and then there’s the creating period. But when the art is given to an audience and then is held—the collected stories that art begins to hold and weave together in the combined amount of time of just the art existing out in the world and becoming a part of other people’s lives. That to me is the greatest privilege and pleasure of what I get to do.

NARRATION

Sound is one of the oldest languages on Earth. Across species, vocalization is a means of survival, a way to navigate, to attract mates, ward off threats, and even keep communities intact. Whales click through the deep mapping their world in echoes, while songbirds craft melodies to claim territory and attract mates.

Frogs form rhythmic choirs at the water’s edge and cicadas vibrate their tymbals in a buzzing pulse that can be heard over a mile away. Each voice, whether sung, clicked, or felt in silence is part of the living world’s endless conversation. And human beings are a part of it.

Willow

Music is not, or sound is something that is so not, just anthropocentric. It’s not just our species. Yeah. It’s like this universal aspect of the natural world in some ways, and. I wanna invite you

Maggie

I know what’s happening!

Willow

You know what’s about to happen. I wanna invite you to share a little anecdote about a particular animal that you’ve been inspired by.

Maggie

Willow! I love geese.

Willow

Why do you love geese, Maggie?

Maggie

I love geese. I grew up on the eastern shore of Maryland in this really tiny town where every year there’s this thing called the Waterfowl Festival, which literally celebrates geese.

Willow

So niche.

Maggie

It’s so niche and it’s so awesome. And there’s like cream of crab soup and labrador retrievers, and it’s…

Willow

Your dream.

Maggie

It’s awesome. Geese really symbolize home to me, and obviously there’s the Mary Oliver of it all, but okay. So basically, last year I was with a group of friends in Cambridge right as the year turned and we were talking about our Word of the Year, and it got to me, this was for 2024. I hadn’t thought about it at all and my like, brilliant, sensitive, wonderful friends were just like dropping knowledge.

They were just throwing out these words that were so creative and intentional and cool, and it got to me and I panicked, and I went Goose! and everyone was like, Goose? And if there’s one thing I know that I can do is that I’m a storyteller. And I can bullshit better than anyone. So I was like, Yeah, goose. Geese remind me of home, but also what I love about geese… 

Willow

Here it is, drum roll…

Maggie

Is they sing for the love of singing. They make sounds to let each other know where they are, but also just to, they’re just going about their day flapping on their way to Canada, just honking because it sounds nice.

And they also, they work as a team and everything they do together and they are sustainable in the way that they take turns, and who’s the leader? Because the leader carries an enormous amount of weight or force of the wind, and also being a silly goose is an important part of my life.

Willow

It’s a hugely important part of your life. Love it. Okay. So essentially, researchers are increasingly planting mics in different ecosystems to listen to the sounds that animals are creating as a way to measure the health of an ecosystem. And I’m thinking about that in relationship to culture. To our human ecosystem.

Maggie

I think so many people aren’t given the rest space needed to be creative, because everybody is creative. But if everybody worked together to have a sustainable environment, then everyone would be an artist. I think environments or cultures where art flourishes—people say that art isn’t necessary to live, right, like you need food, water, shelter.

But it’s emotional care. Like, when I am singing for the joy of singing, it means that my soul is alive and that my mind is full. And I really think that the key, for me, to everything is allowing my mind, body, and my spirit to be in a relational form and making art to me is such spiritual care. So it makes sense to me that the symphony of an environment denotes the health. Because when I’m not feeling very good, I don’t really wanna sing.

It’s usually the thing I need the most, though. 

Willow

Food, water, shelter: That’s survival. But art is, art is living. And one of the other applications that fits so well with that, one of the other applications of bioacoustics is not just measuring the health of an ecosystem, but also restoring it.

So there was one study that was published in Nature Communications, and they found that when they played the sounds of a healthy coral reef, like on a speaker underwater, on a dead coral reef, all of these fish started to flock to it. And you need to have a diverse, thriving fish population in order for there to be a healthy coral reef.

So coupled with habitat reconstruction, they believe that this could actually be a way of restoring coral reefs through sound. And I love that because it fits with what you’re talking about here of just the healing power of sound, which I feel like is something that’s been a big part of your journey.

Maggie

It’s the most important part of my life. And I can tell when I haven’t made sound in enough time, I start to get cagey. I feel stopped up, or that feeling like when you need to cry, like I need to let the drain out. There is something about creating sound.

I think that this is one of the reasons it’s the hardest to get off of tour. There’s a million reasons, like adrenaline is awesome and your sense of purpose is incredibly clear. And you get to live in this really intentional community on buses and it’s awesome. I didn’t always love it, but I now love it so much.

The other thing is that I’m making sound for a minimum of three hours every day, two hours during the show and an hour during soundcheck. But often I’m rehearsing backstage or I’m working on a cover, or I’m just playing with my bandmates. And I think that’s really hard to just achieve in my normal day.

Because I maybe just won’t give myself the time, even though I am an artist in both profession and vocation, I won’t just let myself sit in my living room and play piano for three hours, and I don’t know why, but I think it has to do with—there’s a reason it’s called playing music, like the act of play and the childlike exploration and intuition of that is so important, and I can do that alone, but it’s so much more fun to do with your friends.

Willow

And I love that you share that because I think anyone who’s listening who is creative or has any kind of creative practice, like we do have these images in our mind of what we think artists do, right?

It’s like you’re sitting under the tree or you’re, you know, of what presence looks like. And I think in both of our journeys, in a lot of ways, spiritually speaking, our idea of presence has shifted a lot over the years and yeah I know for me, I thought being present was meditating under the tree all the time.

And so much of what I’ve learned is, for me, spirituality is more about living and sometimes that living is listening to—sometimes for us the right thing is to go and drink the martinis. 

Maggie

It is—

Willow

Other times it’s for us to go, yeah, sit under the tree.

Maggie

It is spiritually as important that I am drinking water, going swimming or running or going to yoga, like, reading something that conjures the goddess for me, all of that: incredibly spiritually important. It’s also spiritually important that I eat barbecue chips and watch One Tree Hill in my pajamas or in my full underwear. And like that to me is the joy of life. And right now, like right now I’m just going to the movies a lot.

And I’ve been been sort of like, I’m chilling. But then the other day I was journaling and I was realizing that I had seen three different movies that had a scene where something from the ceiling shifts and then light comes through the window and I’m starting to pick up on patterns.

I’m feeding myself imagery, and it might not be completely evident to me. The, like, creative, spiritual value is something in the moment; but I will know—this is why time is such an important ingredient to creative practice—is like in two weeks when I sit down to work on a song or work on a passage, this image is gonna come through. 

Willow

It’s time and presence.

And the listening that comes with the presence. I know that if I’m just like running around, I’m like, I have to write, I have to write, I have to do this, it’s always gonna be so hard, but if I can take the moment to go for the walk and then I’m, all of a sudden I see something and that sparks, that’s one thread, right?

And then you see something else that’s a thread. And yeah. I like what you said about noticing patterns like that is such a—how can you weave without that? 

Maggie

Humans notice patterns, but I think it’s also, the creative practice I think, it’s important to note that it can feel incredibly selfish or narcissistic. Like I felt this way particularly in the pandemic when I was like, Who am I to just spend all day writing about what I feel when there is this much suffering happening in the world? And there’s like that version of it. And then there’s the other version of it, which is: I need to be writing every day. And like, Why am I not writing? And my instinct to be like, I should just do what I want, but doing what I want—is that not selfish?

The reality to both of them is that I think that if you can really be vulnerable, then you can touch the core of what it means to have an experience that is human, that everybody shares. And I think some of the greatest art, like my rule always when I’m making art, is to try and show, not tell and like living a life of vulnerability rather than saying I’m vulnerable.

It’s so inspiring, and it’s so contagious. That’s why I’m always dancing full-out on stage—because I know that me in my fullness can inspire somebody else to be in theirs. Because that’s how I have felt at concerts. When I’m watching a performer fully in their body, it puts me in my body.

And in terms of the daily practice stuff, I’ve spent so many times beating myself up for not writing only to sit down and suddenly write 10,000 words because I wanted to. A big thing I’m trying to think about this year—and this was an invitation from a friend as well—is just not picking the fruit before it’s ripe.

When it’s time to write, no one can stop me. Like I am at the piano or I am at the page, and it comes through. But part of sustainable practice is also using your time well. I could beat my head against the piano for 10 hours to maybe write the song. Or I could wait until the song is ready and it’ll probably come through in 10 minutes and be really fun. Like, letting it be easy. 

Willow

Letting it be easy. What other tips do you have for anyone listening who might be looking for ways to channel their creativity? 

Maggie

Don’t write every day ’cause somebody told you. Write when you want to. Or write when you feel inspired. I journal almost every day. I do it before bed. But I haven’t journaled in four or five days. That’s okay. 

Be kind to yourself. Big creative tip. 

And I think just trusting. Trusting that you’re an artist. I think I’ve been really thinking recently about what it means to be an artist, because I think that there are musicians and there are artists. And there are painters, and then there’s artists.

And if you’re an artist, it transcends all mediums, and I think anyone can be an artist, but I think it’s really about embracing your inner freak. I am really realizing in this moment, when I’m trying to assimilate into normal life, I’m super weird and duh, but I’m getting really acquainted with my own strangeness and the really weirdness of my brain.

And it’s funny that I ever tried to be normal ’cause I’m so clearly not, but I feel really normal. Like, my reality is really grounded to me. But I think advice would be like, just embrace your freak as fast as possible. Because authenticity is the only key to making true art. And until you can love yourself, you can’t love your art. 

Willow

Until you love yourself, you can’t love your art. You know I love, I always think about nature in regards to authenticity. Because you look at an ecosystem, you look at everything blooming, everything humming, everything thriving, and there’s just no question about it being itself. 

Maggie

And, like, it’s full freak.

Willow

Yeah. Everything in nature is a freak. I love watching nature documentaries because I’m like, Look at that freaky praying mantis. 

Maggie

Like that’s how you do that?!

Willow

Everything’s alien. Okay. I do have one thing. I wanna circle back to something you said. The asking yourself, like, Who am I to create in this moment when there’s so much suffering? I think that is a huge thing that holds people back. Like, we’re living in this era of polycrisis, right? Climate crisis. We’re seeing horrific things on our screens, and I think that I, a lot of people feel this feeling of—

Maggie

Who am I to spend the afternoon painting? Yeah. For the singing, for the joy of singing.

Willow

What is this poem going to do? Or what, how do you overcome that and create, even amidst—

Maggie

I think that the reassertion of your own humanity has the power to assert and empower the humanity of others. And I think that giving voice to feeling validates the feelings of others. As long as it’s done with intention and respect.

Like I, I always feel like art is a form of caring, and it’s the thing that I think about the most when I’m on stage and off. And how else will we nurture each other, but in living color? 

Willow

That is a perfect note to end on.

NARRATION

Earlier when Maggie was waxing poetic about geese, she mentioned a certain beloved poem by Mary Oliver. The themes in that poem happened to be pretty relevant to the conversation that we were just having. 

Here’s “Wild Geese” by Mary Oliver. 

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

At the end of each episode, I offer three prompts for guided self-reflection to help internalize and investigate how this week’s themes show up in our daily lives and how we can apply the principles discussed. For this week, our questions are:

1. What part of my creative cycle am I in right now?

2. How can I create more moments of pause to better serve my creativity?

3. What would it look like for me to spend more time in nature for inspiration?

The Nature Of is an Atmos podcast produced by Jesse Baker and Eric Nuzum of Magnificent Noise. Our production staff includes Julia Natt, Eleanor Kagan, and Daniel Hartman. Our sound designer is Kristen Mueller. 

The executive producers of The Nature Of are me—Willow Defebaugh—Theresa Perez, Jake Sargent, and Eric Nuzum.

Atmos is a nonprofit media organization focused on the cross-pollination of climate and culture. In addition to our podcast, we deliver award-winning journalism and creative storytelling through a biannual print magazine, daily digital features, original newsletters, and more. To support our work or this podcast, see our show notes or visit atmos.earth/biome.

I’m your host Willow Defebaugh, and this is The Nature Of.