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Forest bathing
Feb. 5th, 2024 11:04 pmThere is a practice of mindfully immersing one's self in woodlands, which is translated from Japanese as "forest bathing". It sounds like something I certainly ought to be doing. A year and a half ago, I signed up for a guided forest bathing walk quite some distance away, then overslept. Today, Zimarra and I took a guided forest bathing walk at Five Rivers with two other guests. I was thrilled to finally get to do this.
I'm sure you can look up instructions for forest bathing anywhere. I am taking notes from today as a memory aid. A summary of notable instructions:
As when meditating, try to stay present in the present. If your thoughts wander, gently note that, and return them to what you're doing. Choose a direction to face. Soften your vision, to look at the whole scene rather than focus on any one aspect. Breathe deeply a few times. Turn 90°. Notice what you're feeling: The wind, the ground, feelings inside you, etc. Breathe deeply some more. Turn 90°. Listen to what's around you. Focus on the nearest sound for a few breaths. Focus on the farthest sound. Turn. Breathe some more. Pick up a soft evergreen twig to hold and feel. As you walk, note your experience of your surroundings. Linger at whatever catches your interest. Try looking and listening for anything moving. Stand still, eyes closed, and make a mental map of the sounds around you. Continue walking slowly, using all of your senses.
I've left out a few instructions that were too "woo" to be meaningful to me. I'd categorize "Note your surroundings, such as the sky, experiencing you" as woo, but our surroundings included a deer which did in fact notice us.
Our guide had come from a background of leading children on sensory walks. She instructed us to take twigs from the old Christmas trees lying on the lawn as bird shelters. When she suggested that we carry and feel them, I knew that they were stims.
The nearest sound was the wind rushing through my hat and against my ear. The farthest was the wind in the trees. Focusing on "the wind" twice felt like it was following the letter of the instruction, but not the spirit. I switched my focus to the birds at the feeders.
Unprompted, I ungloved my hand to feel moss on apple tree branches, ice on Sunfish Pond, and soft plants. Through my boots, I could feel the frozen ground under a quarter inch of squishy thaw.
Just as we started our mental sound map, a huge wave of wind rolled in from the meadow and washed across us. It felt dramatic.
I used "the present" as my framework for handling distraction. "No, Joe, that was in the past. Pay attention to the present." "No, Joe, you don't have to memorize that. You can look it up later. You don't have to plan that other thing. Those are in the future. Return to the present." "No, Joe, you don't have to find a way to word this for your blog. That's in the future. Actually, you're describing and focusing on your current experience, which probably counts as mindfulness. Okay, go ahead and do that."
As we finished, our guide handed us further information. When I thanked her warmly by name, she glowed.
The handouts included a link to an audio recording of a guided sensory walk through a forest. I'll give it a try sometime.
I'm sure you can look up instructions for forest bathing anywhere. I am taking notes from today as a memory aid. A summary of notable instructions:
As when meditating, try to stay present in the present. If your thoughts wander, gently note that, and return them to what you're doing. Choose a direction to face. Soften your vision, to look at the whole scene rather than focus on any one aspect. Breathe deeply a few times. Turn 90°. Notice what you're feeling: The wind, the ground, feelings inside you, etc. Breathe deeply some more. Turn 90°. Listen to what's around you. Focus on the nearest sound for a few breaths. Focus on the farthest sound. Turn. Breathe some more. Pick up a soft evergreen twig to hold and feel. As you walk, note your experience of your surroundings. Linger at whatever catches your interest. Try looking and listening for anything moving. Stand still, eyes closed, and make a mental map of the sounds around you. Continue walking slowly, using all of your senses.
I've left out a few instructions that were too "woo" to be meaningful to me. I'd categorize "Note your surroundings, such as the sky, experiencing you" as woo, but our surroundings included a deer which did in fact notice us.
Our guide had come from a background of leading children on sensory walks. She instructed us to take twigs from the old Christmas trees lying on the lawn as bird shelters. When she suggested that we carry and feel them, I knew that they were stims.
The nearest sound was the wind rushing through my hat and against my ear. The farthest was the wind in the trees. Focusing on "the wind" twice felt like it was following the letter of the instruction, but not the spirit. I switched my focus to the birds at the feeders.
Unprompted, I ungloved my hand to feel moss on apple tree branches, ice on Sunfish Pond, and soft plants. Through my boots, I could feel the frozen ground under a quarter inch of squishy thaw.
Just as we started our mental sound map, a huge wave of wind rolled in from the meadow and washed across us. It felt dramatic.
I used "the present" as my framework for handling distraction. "No, Joe, that was in the past. Pay attention to the present." "No, Joe, you don't have to memorize that. You can look it up later. You don't have to plan that other thing. Those are in the future. Return to the present." "No, Joe, you don't have to find a way to word this for your blog. That's in the future. Actually, you're describing and focusing on your current experience, which probably counts as mindfulness. Okay, go ahead and do that."
As we finished, our guide handed us further information. When I thanked her warmly by name, she glowed.
The handouts included a link to an audio recording of a guided sensory walk through a forest. I'll give it a try sometime.
