An Exercise in Mindfulness

I was reading a blog written by a young woman who lives in Ireland. It was about the recent Hurricane Ophelia and her response to it. She said that they prepared as much as possible then just hunkered down as a family and were grateful for a unique day all together.  Such a good way to approach the stormy weather of life, isn't it? Prepare the best you can, live in the moment and be grateful. 

 

While I am certain that this is an understatement of her feelings during this time, I was thinking about this because it pertained to the family "hurricane" that happened this week; a sudden maelstrom of events involving hospitals and illness, and of emotions like fear and even anger. The kind of storm that reminds you of the fragility of life and uncertainty of the future. There was in the moment, no physical response that I could make, nothing specific that I could do, which left me waiting for news and trying to cope with my emotional response, which generally goes straight to Dire and all possible Worst Case Scenarios.

For some folks these situations leads to all manner of strenuous cleaning or baking activities, but in my case this leads directly to a forest path. As our October weather has been especially warm but the walnut trees have shed most of their leaves. (the walnut bombs remain and a hard hat would probably be wise) The maples are vibrant yellows and oranges with the occasional breath-taking red, and the oak trees are finally changing their green garb for a short display of gold and deep red. I feel like I need be outside to soak up all the beauty and store it away for bleak November days. 

I read this statement this morning. 'Feeling unsure and lost is part of your path. Don't avoid it. See what those feelings are showing you and use it.' I turned it around in my mind for a bit and several things emerged; a question - why do we feel unique in our experience, when clearly it is a universal condition?; a realization - I am grieving; an understanding - the forest paths are a comfort not simply because they feed my soul, but because I know where they go, and where I will arrive. Possibly not earth-shattering revelations, but useful to me. So I headed for the bridge.

I was reminded of an exercise that I had heard about. A friend had used it to help prevent panic attacks caused by her fear of flying. It is a tool to use your five senses to bring your mind to focus only on the present moment. This is a short version of the several that I have seen. 

     5 Things That I See

 

a foraging deer

a sleeping raccoon

creepy fungus called dead man's fingers

an inquisitive chickadee

tiny orange eyelash cup fungus

     4 Things that you Feel

 the rough pod and silky wings of the milkweed

 the texture of the tree that the beaver has started work on

 the suede-like coat of the hickory nut pod

the smoothness of the huge sycamore leaf

     3 Things you Can Hear

the alert of the chipmunk

the cricket-like call of the cedar waxwings

the squirrel working on a walnut

     2 Things you Can Smell

 

the earthy scent of the leaves

the river tumbling over the rapids

     1 Thing You Can Taste

I look all around me at the things which I see birds and animals eating, the wealth of natural provision growing all around me. An amazing bounty, none of which I plan to sample at this time however. 

I'm not sure yet how I feel; nothing in my life has changed, and I still must face the challenge of coping with my fears and what life puts on my plate each day. However, letting the sun shine on my face and listening to the leaves rustle in the wind is soothing to the soul. Taking a moment to wonder and marvel at something outside ourselves, and to take a deep breath because we have realized that we are holding it; that is food for the soul. 

Shinrin-Yoku  -  Japanese noun for "forest bathing" - the medicine of being in the forest