My home runs at a low hum of constant, somewhat- organized chaos. My dad says it is slightly louder and busier than a train station. There is literally someone awake at all times of the day and night. You can find someone doing laundry at 2 am or making a meal at 4 am. This morning it was popcorn at 7 am for some hungry soul. To put this in perspective I’d like to point out that I live with young adults not toddlers.
It is so hard to find quiet these days. And almost impossible to find silence. Even on some of my forest walks there are trains around or traffic driving by. I’m finding out that silence is aided by a quiet environment but not required and not really what silence is about.
When I’m silent on a forest walk it is a body, mind and spirit kind of quiet. There may be noise around. I can initially recognize and be ok with its effect. I tend not to notice it much after that. The silence goes much deeper.
I can offer suggestions here, but to get the most out of silence or forest walks, head over to my contact page to book a walk with me. We take small groups out for any age or ability level.
To quiet your body may be to continue to walk but to focus on slowing your breathing and relaxing your body. It may be stopping to sit on a bench or the ground. It may be leaning on a tree for a bit. Find what works for you.
To quiet your mind is to breathe deeply. Count your breaths. Focus on what you see and not on thinking of the past or the future. When we stay in the moment we can relax. When we think of the past, we ruminate on things we can’t change. When we think of the future we worry about upcoming events. Focusing on what is beautiful and currently happening around you is calming. If you start to notice your thoughts drifting, don’t despair, that’s actually what brains are programmed to do. Just bring your thoughts back. Don’t be frustrated with your train of thoughts that keep derailing, just pick up the pieces and carry on down the track.
To quiet your spirit is a deeper level of peace. It is knowing who you are. It is having a connection to something bigger than yourself and being able to trust in that relationship. It is being your genuine, authentic self, and loving it. It is recognizing that some things are out of my control and that’s ok.
Chronic pain leaves a person feeling so out of control. I expect we each go on similar paths through the stages of grief. Can you can see yourself or your loved ones in these stages?
I was in denial for years. I knew I was in pain. I knew it was constant. I knew it had been ongoing for years. I knew it wasn’t going away anytime soon. But at a physiotherapy appointment, when my therapist looked at me and told me that’s chronic pain, I was shocked. No! Let’s not be silly. I’m not someone who should be labelled as a chronic pain sufferer, At times it wasn’t that bad. Some nights it didn’t even keep me up. For some reason I thought no matter how bad it was getting, someone else was worse off so my experience wasn’t valid.
For so long I felt angry about pain. I felt like it was in the way of trying to raise my boys. In the way of playing the piano. Of working. Of being me. Of using and sharing and developing my skills. It was maddening to think of how young I was and that no matter what I did, I could not strengthen my muscles.
I bargained. If I am so careful the rest of the year, I should be able to knee board a couple of times a year. If I don’t bend my back at all, scar tissue will form and hold me together until my muscles work again. If I don’t care about anybody or anything, I won’t be upset when it also is inevitably taken from me. Do you hear the depression building?
When I finally came to terms with the fact that this may be the best I can ever feel, I hit another rock bottom. Depression. To recognize this was what my body would always be meant letting go of dreams and goals. For the rest of my mortal existence. That is a hard pill to swallow. I was not able to rise up following this crushing realization. I could see that’s what I needed to do but I was stuck. I kept telling myself to get out of the pity party. To carry on even though things were hard. Just like I always had. But. I. Could. Not.
Acceptance is when I realized this may be the best I will ever feel but… here’s my but list (you know what I mean). I may not ever be pain free but- I can still move. I am finding therapies that work for my body. I see my boys learning things they would not have learned had I been pain free all these years. I would never have found forest therapy otherwise. You see what I mean. I may need to let go of some dreams but I can make new ones or adjust the old to fit this me. I can see things I am grateful for in this mess. I now know that my pain does not make other people’s pain invalid. The same way their pain does not play any role in how valid mine is. I can hold space for someone to feel pain. It may not be constant like mine. Or frustrating like mine. But pain is pain. A person in pain needs someone to hold space for them to go through these stages, I suspect it may be the only way to acceptance.
And that’s where we all want to be for any up or down in our life. Acceptance. That’s it my sweet friends. Work towards acceptance in all areas of life. And when you’re stuck, come see me in the forest. I’ll be here.
SUNBEAM ACRES 