Sometimes when I offer Forest Therapy invitations during the 3-hour-long experience, I get “dead” stares from people. Like nothing is happening on the outside…or the inside.
And boy does my mind start making up stories: They hate this. I suck. This is a ridiculous practice. It’s too woo-woo. I’M too woo-woo. They think I’m unprofessional. I AM unprofessional.
But then, usually, when I ask the final question at the tea circle, “What would you like to say to make today’s experience feel complete?” the people who gave me “dead” stares come alive.
They share:
“As I was sitting with the tree, I could feel it pulling negative energy out of me.”
“I didn’t realize how much I needed to just sit and be still.”
“The idea that everything I am seeing is seeing me…that’s something I am taking with me to think more deeply about.”
“This was the fastest three hours ever.”
“I felt like I was 5 years old again. Delightful!”
And so it goes that I realize this forest bathing experience is SO outside people’s normal, everyday experience that they feel vulnerable, tender, unsure, on-guard, and vaguely threatened by these invitations to connect with nature because it connects them with themselves…the little kid parts, the tender parts, the wounded parts, the joy-filled parts. Parts that they often work SO hard to avoid in order to just get through everyday life.
And so it goes that I set out my metaphorical fuzzy, cozy blanket lined basket of compassion for these humans who have the “staring” look of nothing happening but on the inside may well be feeling a maelstrom of unexpected emotions.
So much compassion for these humans, and for myself. And so much gratitude that we all showed up for three hours.
Warmly,
Angie