But first I share some holiday humor,
Frost upon a windowpane
and softly falling snow,
Warmth beside a crackling fire
while biting north winds blow
Books and blankets, steaming tea ,
The soft glow of an ember,
Candlelight and cozy nights~
The magic of December
-Laura Jaworski
Especially when you live with chronic pain. Spending time in nature is good. Spending time in nature with people. Held in a shared experience of presence and permission. Now that, is something else entirely.
When you live with chronic pain, connection can feel complicated.
I am happy, hurting and healing at the same time. It is the bravest version of me I have ever been.
You long for meaningful connection. But you don’t have the time or strength to find, let alone nurture it.
Bodies are unpredictable. Energy is rationed. Calendars fill with medical appointments instead of casual plans.
Even when we long for community, there’s often a quiet question humming underneath it all.
Will I be able to keep up?
Will I have to explain myself?
This is where group forest therapy offers something different.
Connection on a forest therapy walk doesn’t come from conversation or comparison. It doesn’t require sharing your story or proving how much you hurt.
It emerges slowly, almost indirectly, through shared pacing and shared permission.
It happens when the group naturally slows because one person needs to slow.
When silence is allowed without awkwardness.
When someone names an experience you thought was yours alone.
I’ve watched shoulders drop the moment someone realizes they don’t have to explain why they’re moving slowly.
That moment matters.
There are many things that can only be seen through the eyes that have cried.
-Oscar A Romero
From a physiological perspective, safe connection is not just emotionally comforting. It is biologically regulating. When we feel seen, believed, and accepted without pressure to perform, the nervous system receives a powerful message.
I am safe enough right now.
Stress hormones like cortisol begin to ease. The breath deepens. Muscles soften. Pain doesn’t vanish, but it often becomes less consuming.
Nature does part of this work.
But shared experience completes it.
AD ASTRA PER AMOREM (latin): To the stars through love.
During the holidays, many of us are preparing, with excitement, (hopefully not with dread) for connection.
Family gatherings. Traditions. Empty chairs. Expectations.
For those living with chronic pain, this season can heighten both longing and fatigue. Wanting closeness while knowing how much it costs the body to participate.
Group forest therapy offers another way of being together. A quieter way. One where connection is rooted in presence rather than endurance.
One of my favorite practices for larger groups is something I call Shared Noticing.
Participants are invited to wander slowly and find one small thing that reflects how they are arriving. A stone, a leaf, a texture, a sound.
We must not allow the clock and the calendar to blind us to the fact that each moment of life is a miracle and a mystery.
-H.G. Wells
Later, we gather in a wide circle. Each person is invited (never required) to show what they found and complete the sentence,
“I’m arriving like this…”
There is no fixing. No interpreting. Just witnessing.
Again and again, what emerges is relief. A realization that our internal landscapes are not as isolated as they feel.
Faith includes noticing the mess, the emptiness and discomfort, and letting it be there until some light returns.
Poet David Whyte writes,
Belonging is not something we negotiate; it is something we remember.
Forest therapy helps us remember. Not by erasing pain, but by holding it gently within a living community. Trees overhead, earth beneath us, and others beside us who understand without needing all the details.
As the season of gathering approaches, I find myself wondering,
Where do you feel most allowed to be exactly as you are? Without explanation, without apology?
Share in the comments 👇🏼
As this season asks many of us to gather, I offer this as an alternative kind of togetherness. One rooted in presence, patience, and permission.
If you’re navigating chronic pain and longing for connection that honors your limits, group forest therapy may be a gentle place to land. I’d love to walk alongside you.
To love at all is to be vulnerable.
SUNBEAM ACRES 