Alive in me

Today I went to the forest. 

My friend Shannon invited me as part of a Forest Therapy Mindfulness Walk. 

I wasn’t really sure what to expect. 

I was open to the possibilities. 

And sitting on the ground holding the soil in my hands, I found my mind hesitating to let go. 

Let go of judgement of my thoughts and feelings. 

I found myself hesitant to engage with what I was being asked to experience. 

The dirt, the trees, the smells, the sounds, the people. 

I felt my nervous system trying to keep me at an arms distance from everyone and everything around me. 

And rather than question it in the moment, I was guided to sit with it. 

Shannon’s voice led us to examine each of our senses more closely. 

Allowed me time and space to feel the twigs and blades of grass in my fingertips. 

Gave me the freedom to smell the air here and there while gently changing my perspective with the turn of my head. 

I was given a moment to see and hear things in a new way. 

We were given permission to walk slowly. 

We were granted the space to see the environment for its movement. 

And at the end of this walk we were asked about what was alive in us. 

I shuddered at the question as we began to share. 

Because my answer wasn’t something beautiful. 

It wasn’t hopeful, joyous, or positive. 

It was anger. 

“I’m angry”.

As soon as I said it out loud, I felt a pain run through my body that I haven’t experienced since I was going through chemo. 

I can only describe it like the bone pain I had back then. 

A quick electrical shock from the base of my spine through the crown of my head. 

It didn’t linger. 

And I immediately began to cry. 

I was grateful for the opportunity to lay in the greenery and simply share my breath with the plants around me. 

To be present in my breath without expectation or pressure other than to breathe. 

As I was laying there on my belly in the grass, every time I would look around something new would catch my eye. 

Some new shade of green.

Some new blade of grass I had never seen before. 

I felt connected to the forest through my breath. 

We were then given an invitation to visit the forest on our own. 

I found a quiet space beneath the canopy, the sun peeking through the leaves, and I laid down, drifting in and out of a nap.

It was exactly what I needed.

I left feeling lighter.

I left feeling like the forest had welcomed me exactly as I was.

Angry.

Tired.

Grieving.

Human.

I left feeling more grounded than I have in a long time.

I think I'll be returning to the forest.

It has earned a place in my self-care toolbox.