Something I’ve been doing for awhile is now named Forest Bathing. Because I believe Forest Bathing — emersing ones self in Nature, feeling the natural harmonic — is a way to relax, to connect with the Earth, to connect with God or a higher power, I’ve been going to the lake, the river, the mountains, the woods, the meadows, for years. Recently, it’s become very popular. National Public Radio did a piece on it a year or so ago.
According to the article, forest bathing, or Shinrin-yoku in Japanese, started in Japan in the 1990s.
No, it didn’t.
It’s something my grandmother, my father, my aunts and uncles taught me. It’s something I’ve done with my siblings, my children, my relatives. One could argue that Thoreau did it at Walden Pond. One could argue that Jesus did it when he went into the wilderness.
No matter. Being connected, getting connected, is part of the reason — a big part — I bought this house out in the middle of nowhere, Northwest Georgia. But here’s something I’ve learned recently: You have to make time to forest bathe, to creek bathe, to lake bathe, to bathe in nature… even if you live in the woods.
A few days ago, I was working in the garden and got eaten up by chiggers. A couple of weeks before that, the pollen count was ridiculously high here, so my wife and I didn’t go outside much. Today I was thinking and feeling that something was wrong. Something felt disconnected. Something in me was out-of-touch, out-of-tune. And then I realized what it was!
I hadn’t made time to go outside. In fact, I’d allowed myself to be so afraid of chigger and pollen attacks that I’d deliberately shut myself inside, turned on the air conditioning, and looked out the window. I’ve ventured outside — other than driving somewhere — maybe two or three times, on short walks where I kept on the road or on a well-worn and well-mowed trail.
I’d disconnected from nature.
This is in sharp contrast to when I first moved here, when I would go on long walks — usually without shoes — , long sitting on a chair near the West Chickamauga Creek, long hours of laying in a hammock listening to the creek babble, long, energetic yet peaceful and relaxing kayak trips up and down the creek. Then, barely a half of a day would go by before I would be out tramping around in the woods or playing in the meadow or the creek. I was identifying all sorts of new (to me) plants, birds, animals and insects. I was totally connected with Nature, with the land. Each evening, I would “sound my barbaric Yawp” at the setting sun, in gratitude for the day.
I was happy, content, and peaceful.
That changed recently. And now I understand why. You’ve got to take time, even if you’re deep in the woods, to ACCESS Nature. You can’t just look out the window from your safe place and expect to get all of the benefits available. Even if you are make a real effort to try to access nature on a personal, planned level, I think you have to make the extra effort to really connect, to feel the earthy harmonic from the top of your head all the way down to the bottoms of your toes. When I REALLY go out in the woods, especially to the creek, sometimes (not always) it’s just me, my body, and nature.
Yeah, I think my parents up in central Wisconsin have it right with the sign by their dock: “NO SWIMMING (suits) AFTER DARK!”
So, tonight I’m making a goal to get outside more. Chiggers be danged. In fact, it just rained. I may take off my shoes and walk in the dirt. Just because.
PS: It amuses me that, in the NPR article and photos I linked to above, everyone going on the trail — including the leader — is wearing shoes.
NO SHOES!
