Dear Forest,
Thank you for this profound experience.
“Creepers, twigs, tiny flower
I didn't realize that there is power
In existing without the expectation of being seen.”
When you walk in a garden, do you notice the grass or only the big trees?
Do you notice the creepers spread like a carpet on the land or just the hedge bushes at eye level?
Do you notice the grass that is taken for granted or just the leaves in front of your eyes?
Now what if I say you could notice all of this and maybe much more if you went Forest Bathing.
‘Forest Bathing’ is a literal translation of the Japanese term ‘Shirin-Yoku’ which means bathing in the forest atmosphere or taking in the forest through our senses.
I had the pleasure of this subtle yet profound experience last weekend in a meditation retreat near Pune. The morning started as usual with me taking my daily walks and as I came back to the meeting point, the fellow retreaters were already ready to go for forest bathing.
Once inside the forest, we closed our eyes and brought our body, mind, and soul into the moment by chanting Om three times. I already felt a calmness in me as a cool breeze brushed through the back of my neck and hair. We were instructed to be completely silent and not engage in conversation with words, eyes, or body with our friends, and to observe the surroundings. Now, as a part of my morning exercise, I had been walking this very same trail every day for three days and I had just finished one ten minutes back. Yet, the stones on the track, the twigs next to it, the bushes half dry, half alive, and the trees around me were somehow new to me at this moment. As I gifted the surroundings my eyes and attention, I was returned with the gift of being in the moment and unexpected joy.
I noticed the small creepers running on the ground along a tiny papaya tree, little yet standing straight and tall with its leaves spread like an umbrella. I imagined small ants taking refuge in its shadow and laughed to myself. I spotted yellow flowers on a small shrub and a red flower on a wild bush and some purple florets in the middle of the grass. I noted the grass which goes unseen and yet is always there as if saying,
“I live not for you but for me.”
I was still pondering on this thought when the next second I found myself hugging a tree. I have never done that before or maybe I last did it in my childhood the memory of which aroused in my mind just as I am writing this. I was holding the tree loose and at a distance. Not fully satisfied with this half embrace, I went closer to the tree, leaned in a bit more, and hugged it tight so my entire upper body, from my neck to my waist, touched the trunk of this tree. I spent several minutes there, trying to feel the heartbeat of the tree. But I heard mine. Something moved inside me. I wondered what the age of the tree would be? Is it older than me? I moved on once I felt better. It was clear that I needed that hug more than the tree.
Our Forest Bathing experience included a couple of more activities where with each step I took, my senses expanded and I could see, hear, smell, touch and taste the forest (small unripe mangoes fallen on the trail).
The more I was with the forest, the more I was with myself.
My hand landed on a wild rose thorn then and I came out of my trance. I was smiling now because I realized: The forest and I are one thing. I am nothing and yet I am everything.
