Forest medicine

Forest medicine

I needed something today. I needed some unnameable holding. So, I gave myself the gift of a few hours healing; I took myself to the forest. It's no wonder the arched ceiling of the cathedral is inspired by the great vaulted canopy of the forest. This is sacred space. Something in me stills in reverence. The smell of the tree breath is an incense, gently guiding me into the hallowed place within.

I bring my busy mind, my ever-bubbling emotions, my casually-neglected body. I bring questions and fears and the heaviness of modern living. The spongy moss and searching tree roots soak it all up. They take my human noise and gently cushion it, dampen it, quieten it all. And I'm absorbing too, through eyes and ears and nose, through skin, until I meld with the forest, aligning with its frequency. Now, communication can begin.

I listen to the tree, to the stone, to the wood sorrel. There are spirits everywhere. I'm surrounded by presence. There's a place where I feel especially aware of Na Daoine Maithe. I sit for a while and listen. And listen. And listen. When I get up to leave, something has been left behind and yet a more solid me returns... bringing a soft, mossy wisdom in my heart.