Losing Myself
Or lose thyself in the continuous woods*
Last weekend I was happy and content. I was free! I was a golf widow. Two. Whole. Days. One of my dulcet pleasures is getting out of bed in the morning, knowing I’ve a whole day stretching before me with nothing on the agenda. Eat, drink, walk, write, shoot just exactly when and where I please. Bliss! Sunday afternoon was warm and sunny and I settled myself on our balcony — listening to the birds in the woods (list below), practicing shinrin-yoku, and trying to lose myself in the continuous woods.
Have you ever been in a woods or forest, alone, listening to the birds, enjoying sunshine that is filtered by the leaves, taking deep breaths of that organic aroma peculiar to woodlands, listening to the gurgling, burbling sound of a nearby creek? If so, you’ve practiced the simple, but oh-so-therapeutic shinrin-yoku too. It’s not for everyone, I get that. Lots of folks find that being alone, being quiet for a stretch of time, is actually stressful. And it was for me too at first, but in those days I kept returning to a phrase I read in one of Dad’s journals:
Ciúnas gan uaigneas. — “Quietness without loneliness.”
It became a personal mission. That was a good ten years ago and at that time, I was helped enormously by being given the unique and wonderful privilege of studying shinrin-yoku in the Ganaraska Forest. Our Guide and Facilitator was a charming young man who, despite the diversity of his “students” was able to help each one of us get comfortable in a “sit spot” and with the practice of being quiet and alone in the woods. I’ve never looked back.
Hugging Tree
During our first session, our guide insisted we all hug a tree. For at least 30 seconds. Okay - I’m in! I discovered that, not only was I able to quickly get over my initial embarrassment, but that I am definitely not averse to hugging trees. It was surprisingly enjoyable. Behind our unit is a perfect hugging tree (my personal gentle giant):
My sit-spot on Sunday afternoon was on our balcony (I daresn’t venture into the sloping, slippery ravine alone these days) but, as I can practically touch the trees from there, it is almost the same. There was no tree hugging, but our woods were a sunshiny, tranquil, tangle of leaves and branches and wildflowers and vines and shrubs and stumps.
Beautiful! Perfect for practicing shinrin-yoku, and trying to lose myself in the continuous woods. Um, not “trying” - for a time, I did lose myself. My connection with nature now feels instinctive; it awakens my neurotransmitters and I am rewarded by a hit of dopamine — instant joy and contentment. Ciúnas gan uaigneas (quietness without loneliness).
’Til next time, y’all…
The Continuous Woods
*William Cullen Bryant, page 29, “Thanatopsis” from his anthology Poetical Works of William Cullen Bryant.
Seen and heard: Balcony Birds of the Day
Flicker
Blue Jay
Downy Woodpecker
Cardinal
Black-capped Chickadee
Mourning Dove
Goldfinch
Carolina Wren
Oriole
Nuthatch
Sparrow
Robin
Purple Martin
Red-winged Blackbird