WALK in the Woods
I found something in the forest that I once lost. It was hanging on spider silk and dripping with the sun. It was tucked into the palm of a young leaf. It was a secret shared between birds that somehow, I understood perfectly. Urgently. I walked and I walked. Impossibly, I understood more and deeper.
“The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.”
― John Muir
I found something in the forest that I once lost.
It was hanging on spider silk and dripping with the sun.
It was tucked into the palm of a young leaf.
It was a secret shared between birds that somehow, I understood perfectly. Urgently.
I walked and I walked. Impossibly, I understood more and deeper.
In my years of walking through the woods, I’ve made many observations. Among them, that people in a forest always seem to know that walking is best.
If you stand still, you miss it.
If you run, you miss it.
But if you walk, your curiosity will show you everything.
You’ll notice the frilled mushrooms terraced and cascading down the trunk of an oak tree.
You’ll see that the mother bird has the same color freckles as your firstborn.
You’ll stop for a drink of fresh air, because a simple breath won’t tell you enough about where you’re standing.
You can come here with a hungry heart. In fact, it’s best that you do.
Walk and keep walking.
Because on the stained purple boughs of the mulberry, behind the curtain of willow, in this gallery where seasons change loudly but peace stays the same, this is where they hang the great art:
The particular blackness in the eyes of a doe frozen still.
A squabble among squirrels.
Pine cones looking prehistoric in their armor and scales.
The cocoon, the canopy, the small flashes of light.
The presence of medicine and nourishment, abundance.
Sharing the trail with the bobcat. She walks towards and past you as if to say, “I trust you, welcome.”
I’ll never be uninterested in one step more.
I’ve heard people say that they found God, Spirit, Source, the answers here. Others have been just as excited about fox grapes and Lion’s Mane. People have found love in and with these woods. They have become cathedral-quiet, just so they can listen.
They have walked so that they can really see.
Practices
Shinrin-Yoku or “Forest Bathing”
I often feel that “forest” is as much a feeling as a place. Forest is calm, peace, and home. Forest is holiness, humility, and awe. It feels good to walk in the woods because it is good to walk in the woods. Of course, we don’t need scientific studies to confirm this magic, but we have them in volumes. Among many other benefits, spending time in the forest has been associated with lower blood pressure, stress hormones, and heart rate.
In 1982, as a response to rapid urbanization and declines in overall health, the Japanese Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry, and Fisheries introduced the concept of shinrin-yoku or “forest bathing.” The wild idea was that spending dedicated time in the woods, taking in the environment with the five senses, could offer therapeutic and preventative health benefits. Today, according to the Japanese Society of Forest Medicine there are 65 certified “Forest Therapy Bases” across the country and the practice is catching on all over the world.
Like most of my favorite exercises, forest bathing is open-ended, adaptable, personalizable, and accessible. All you need is time and attention. In my experience, the woods do the rest of the work for you.
I begin my practice still, with several deep breaths and then move slowly and intentionally along a quiet two-mile trail, a distance that works well for me and takes roughly thirty-five minutes. As I walk, I make sure I’m observing with all five of my senses:
I see the light filtered through the stand of young conifers (this is called ‘komorebi’ 木漏れ日.)
I taste the spice of sap in the air.
I smell the damp earth, covered with pine needles.
I feel the zephyr skip playfully over my skin and through my hair.
I listen to every crackle and song.
I let all of it wash over me and it really does feel that way. I’m immersed, embodied, intrinsically connected. When I’m finished, I close my practice in the same stillness from which it began. And I always say, “thank you.”
Starting something new, even considering starting something new, can be daunting. If it feels like a big step (as first steps often do) there are guided forest bathing practices all over the US led by certified forest therapists, as well as many established and emerging enthusiast groups that may be able to help you get going.
Right now, I’m enjoying the practice in my own company (always making sure to check in at the trailhead, keep others aware of my location, and bring proper safety gear). As Mary Oliver says, “If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love you very much.”
Libby DeLana is an award-winning executive creative director, designer/art director by trade, who has spent her career in the ad world. Click here to get your copy of Libby’s first published book, Do Walk. You can connect with Libby on Instagram @thismorningwalk and @parkhere.