Reflections on a Day of Forest Therapy
“When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change” – Wayne Dyer
Quetly taking time out to sit and see the natural world through heightened senses.
We recently had a forest therapy facilitator here at the farm to try something new that I feel would fit in with the mission and value statement of the four foundational pillars here at the farm. The pillars are a synthesis of land, horses, dogs and people, and their interconnected physical and spiritual wellbeing in community with one another. As we develop a program of education and thought provoking ideas and collaborations with others, this unique opportunity presented itself and intuitively felt so aligned.
Upon marketing this idea, the initial feedback from people was that they already spent lots of time outdoors or in the woods. I must say that I secretly had the same notion. You do not know what you do not know, and I along with the participant group, was pleasantly surprised.
As horse and dog enthusiasts, acreage owners, gardeners, hikers etc, we do tend spend a lot of time in the natural world. After having participated in this structured event, I would like to challenge you, as I see so much rushing, business, disconnection from one another and our animals, disconnection to the rhythms and cycles of nature, resulting in poor health, anxiety and much more that is pervasive throughout our society. Maybe we could learn to mindfully step back and reconnect ourselves with nature as ultimately we ARE nature. We too live in full interdependence with this intricate and rapidly unravelling web of life. Nature gives us life, heals us, houses us and we, if we think about it, ultimately rely on her for every little detail of our existence.
Noticing some of our fellow beings.
As we have compartmentalized our societies, divorcing the food we buy at the grocery store to from where it had its origins, growing plants in poor, non working soils, living in human created and convenient sterile and artificial environments, feeling the pressure to be busy and perform, it is no wonder that we are dying of depression, loneliness and other related illnesses. We have forgotten this on a conscious level, but I believe that all of our souls still yearn for the connection to the land, our food, our communities, our critters and much more. We innately yearn for this and often by not finding it, our subconscious will lead us to indulge in unhealthy distractions to numb the call. Be it drinking, shopping, television, you name it, it is all just a way to dim down this call of the wild.
A strange thing happened to those who attended the Nature therapy session. They took time out for themselves, their families, their busy schedules, and purposely slowed down and opened all of their senses. The writing that ensued prompted them to think about their experiences and reconnect with their inner worlds within this new frame of reference. The results were beautiful, healing and intense.
My personal take away from the experience:
As the host and the coordinator, I became caught up in the perfection of the day, or at least my social construct of perfection. I had recently returned from a lengthy trip to visit family to unseasonably cool July weather coupled with unprecedented and relentless rainfall. It was gloomy, except if you were a mosquito or a garden weed. They flourished!
To add insult to injury as they say, we had an incursion of tent caterpillars. These are naturally occurring events that happen every decade or so. Before I left, there were seemingly millions of them crawling about in my outside space. When I returned they had stripped the forest bare of their leaves and had cocooned by the thousands in a fuzzy, sticky white blanket all over my garden and outside sitting area. Days were spent fretting, scrubbing cleaning them away along with weeding. The weeding task that had already been laboriously completed before my departure weeks earlier. It felt overwhelming, but the event was scheduled. The skies and temperatures were a strange mixture of autumn, combined with the leafless trees of early June. It was not what I had pictured when I booked the facilitator and advertised the day months back.
Natures seemingly inconvenient caterpillar incursion, no leaves and cocoons everywhere.
As we started, I was reminded by our guide that the forest would give us what we needed. The forecast had torrential rains predicted for the entire day, some people cancelled and I knew I would struggle to cover the bill, but nonetheless forged on.
The day was surprising as we all trundled off in our wet weather gear. The moment we stepped out of doors, the sky lifted and the rain slowed to a sprinkling mist and then stopped. The outdoor session began. The forest was damp, the bugs were thick….the poplar trees, although stripped of their leaves and covered in cocoons, were showing signs of new tender leaf growth. Rejuvenation. When we gathered for lunch, there was even a hint of blue sky and some warmth that enabling summertime outdoor eating.
Remembering that there is no such thing as bad weather….just bad clothing.
The weather stayed dry for the first part of the journaling and we could sit out doors, before being forced in by moody, black clouds that did not disappoint. Thunder rumbled in the distance and moved ever closer, followed by yet another round of dark, biblical rains worthy of an ark. A peaceful blanket enveloped the mood as we learned about sit spots and looked out rainy windows from individual vantages for a quiet session in reflecting on what we saw outdoors through the now wet and streaming windows. The written and shared results were fascinating. My big learning of the day was that yes, nature does provide what you need. I learned that I had wanted to control every step of the day but was denied this resulting in some spectacular anxiety. The weather was upon reflection perfect, as the forest taught me that yes, you can have adversity when the tent caterpillars come through. Some plants die as they do not have the health or resiliencies to withstand this and the many that survive this calamity, do not dwell on the “evil and inconvenient caterpillars”, but simply get on with re-growth and repair.
Why is it then that we have this ridiculous need to control our environments, our family, our friends, the weather, out pets, our land, when upon reflection the pursuit of this now seems absurdly ridiculous as life just does what it does. Personally, there now seems to be an arrogance in myself in thinking that we have any control and that our self worth is tied up in the failure to controll the uncontrollable. Perhaps there is lots I need to re-evaluate, let go of and learn from the forest. Just let go, live in the moment and adapt. This experience truly presented many allegories for life, and it will all work out perfectly, and if it doesn’t, that is ok as well. It simply is life!