Forest Bathing

Summary

The text describes the experience of forest bathing in an old-growth forest in British Columbia, emphasizing the interconnectedness of nature and the healing power of the forest, as well as drawing parallels between the cooperative nature of trees in a grove and human community values.

Abstract

The author recounts a sensory-rich walk through a lush, post-rainfall forest, detailing the vivid colors, earthy scents, and the tactile experience of the mossy environment. The narrative takes a mystical turn as the author descends into a sinkhole, discovering an underground network of tree roots that symbolizes the enduring connection and mutual support within the forest community. This revelation serves as a metaphor for human societies, contrasting the self-serving nature of isolated individuals with the cooperative and nurturing dynamics of a community. The text concludes with a reflection on the choice humans face in aligning themselves with either individualistic or communal values, inspired by the author's experiences in the Pacific North-West Rain Forests and insights from the book "The Secret Language of Trees."

Opinions

The author believes in the healing power of nature, particularly through the practice of forest bathing.
Trees in a grove are seen as a model for ideal community behavior, sharing resources and supporting one another.
Isolated trees are likened to selfish individuals, lacking the benefits and protections provided by a community.
The author advocates for choosing to be part of a supportive community, drawing a direct comparison to the cooperative nature of trees in a forest.
The experience of being in the forest is described in a way that suggests it can inspire a deeper appreciation for the natural world and its inherent wisdom.
The text suggests that humans can learn from the natural world about how to live in harmony with others.

Lessons on Healing and Community

Photo by Harry Stefanakis

Dreamtime

I’m walking through an old-growth forest somewhere in British Columbia just after rainfall. My eyes are ambushed by the richness of the varied shades of green I see that I am in wonder at nature’s palette. My gaze opens further to witness the golden ochres, browns, and mineral reds that subtly infuse the land. Colors are blended with the play of shadow and light between the trees.

All my senses awaken. Petrichor rises from the ground. My nostrils are stirred by the divine scent of rock and soil that is birthed from the rain’s renewal. My hands feel the soft wetness of the moss. Moss is everywhere, on the ground, on the rocks, and hanging off the branches of the trees. My ears delight in the sound of my feet swishing through muddles that dare me to play like a child. The air tastes of freshness, like that of cool mint. Forest bathing is healing.

As I move through these living lungs of the world, my mind becomes fascinated by the nursing trees that allow their body to be the soil of rebirth. I observe that some stumps when a cut is still green. Can they still be alive? I notice a raven croaking and bobbing up and down above a large old-growth stump. I see an opening inside the enormous stump, much like a cave. I follow the raven’s call and walk through the threshold, and then, suddenly, I am falling down a sinkhole.

I imagine that this is what it felt like for Alice. I’m underneath the tree. There is another world here. I see that the roots of the stump are still strong and connected to the others. There is a luminous web of connection across all the tree roots in the forest. The old stump is still sharing the wisdom of its years with the grove, and they, in return, are feeding it. This continues until it has passed on everything it knows, and then it offers one last gift to the community. It remains fertile ground for new promises to grow.

Natural World

Did you know that trees that grow in isolation tend to become a-holes? They become selfish, trying to horde all the resources they can and share extraordinarily little. Trees that grow in groves, on the other hand, are a community. They share information across an underground fungal network and support each other with life-giving nutrients. When external threats arise, they band together. The grove protects each tree not only from parasites but from the storms of life. Assholes must fend for themselves.

People are much like that too. Some focus only on themselves; others can be parasites looking only to take what they need; still, others are transactional, giving only when they receive. But many choose to harmonize together as a community of care, a sacred grove that allows one to be both tree and forest, an individual and a collective. I chose to be part of a grove. What about you?

This is part of a collection of writing I am completing that travels between normal and nontypical states of consciousness, weaving them together like a tapestry of the mind. This piece was inspired by my hikes through the Pacific North-West Rain Forests and the book “The Secret Language of Trees.” I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to comment. Happy Holidays to everyone and your groves! Harry