The Web We Weave: Fascia, Feelings, and Foliage

Feelings buried alive never die; they find a home in the body until we listen.

-Unknown

If you’ve ever pulled a loose thread on a sweater only to watch the whole thing unravel. You already understand fascia. Fascia is like your body’s built-in spider web. A stretchy, connective tissue that wraps around muscles, organs, nerves, and just about everything else. It’s the silent scaffolding that keeps you upright, and it’s a lot more sensitive than we give it credit for.

Now here’s the kicker: fascia doesn’t just hold tension from that yoga pose you attempted last week. It also holds emotions.

My fascia, for instance, is on the loose side. Because it is connective tissue. And I have issues in my tissues with my hypermobility condition. Yet, when I experience a shock or embarrassment, I will tense and hold. Until I have the chance to talk it out. Move it out. And let it out.

Stress, grief, fear, anger — if we don’t face them, fascia faithfully stores them for later. Think of it as your body’s junk drawer. The trouble is, the drawer isn’t bottomless. Eventually, it overflows, and the result is often chronic pain and stiffness. Or that “my whole body feels like a knotted shoelace” sensation.

When you are already a chronic pain sufferer, tension aggravates everything internally. That junk drawer is already pretty full at the start of every day. Your drawer has a tendency to overflow easily. Perhaps going into panic mode at the thought of being late for a wedding.

Fascia Unveiled (not literally, that would be horrific): A Closer Look (figuratively speaking)

Fascia tension and pain can result in the following symptoms:

  1. Fatigue that rests don’t fix
  2. A body that feels stuck or heavy
  3. Swelling or puffiness
  4. Aches that migrate
  5. Mood swings or emotional reactivity
  6. Brain fog or sensory overload

The Tapestry of Emotion

We are not separate threads, but one woven fabric. What happens to one part, happens to the whole.

-Rumi (paraphrased)

Picture a spider web in the forest. If you tap one corner, the whole thing shivers. Fascia works the same way. Tug on one tight spot. Say, your jaw that clenches every time you swallow your frustration. And the ripple travels to your shoulders, hips, or lower back. Over time, the whole web becomes taut, rigid, and reactive.

This is why chronic pain can feel so widespread and mysterious. It’s not “all in your head.” It’s all in your web.🙄

This web is intricate, adaptive, and intelligent. It is a continuous communication network. It adapts and evolves with every experience. It is shaped by your posture, stress, trauma and time.

And here’s the hard truth: loosening fascia isn’t just about stretching or foam rolling. It’s about facing the emotions strung up in that web. Otherwise, we’re just untangling knots that will retie themselves the next time life throws us a curve ball.

Foliage, Fascia, and Feelings

The trees are patient teachers. In their stillness, we remember how to soften.

-Adapted Forest Therapy reflection

So where does healing begin? Here’s a hint: it’s not in fluorescent-lit clinics with “soothing” elevator music.

Healing begins in places where the nervous system can finally exhale. Enter forest therapy. When you step into the woods, your fascia (and your frazzled nerves) start to soften. The forest isn’t asking you to perform, to prove, or to pretend. Trees don’t care if you’re angry, grieving, or stuck in freeze mode. They simply stand — tall, patient, rooted — and invite you to do the same.

The slow rhythm of nature helps coax tight fascia into release. Walking barefoot on moss and breathing in pine. Or even sitting quietly and noticing the way light filters through leaves sending signals of safety to your nervous system. Safety is the permission slip fascia needs to unclench and let go of the emotions it’s been storing.

Winding Paths to Wellness: Step by Step

  1. Notice the web – Pay attention to where your body feels tight when certain emotions rise. Jaw with anger? Chest with grief? Shoulders with anxiety? Naming the connection is powerful.
  2. Breathe with the trees – Try forest bathing. Experiment by simply sitting outdoors and syncing your breath with the sway of branches. Slow breathing calms nerves and softens fascia.
  3. Move gently – Instead of punishing workouts, try slow walking in nature. Gentle, mindful movement gives fascia the message that it’s safe to release.
  4. Feel it to free it – Allow emotions to surface without judgment. Cry, sigh, journal, or even growl (the forest can handle it). What your body expresses, it no longer has to store.

Tears are the silent language of grief.

-Voltaire

Other forms of therapy to release fascia include: Myofascial massage. Cupping. Deep stretching. Breathwork. Cold bath. Tread carefully. Some of these therapies will be too much for a toxic ridden body.

An Enticing Proposal

Your fascia is your lifelong spider web. When it’s tangled with old emotions, the whole structure strains. But the good news is this: just as webs can be rebuilt, so can you. Step into the forest. Breathe. Listen. Move slowly. Let your body know it is safe to soften.

Healing isn’t about forcing the web to untangle. It’s about giving it the stillness, compassion, and space it needs to find balance again.

Healing begins when we allow the heart to speak and the body to answer.

-Adapted wisdom

Transforming Adversity with Forest Therapy: Slowing Down and Embracing Growth

I am learning I cannot control my circumstances. But I can control my response to them. There are so many things that cause resistance in our world. I have found it beneficial to use these steps to move through those harder days. Until my “just can’t” turns into “I’m ready to try again.”

Slow down! When my thoughts are swirling and I can’t grasp what’s most important or real, I know it’s time to slow down; My thoughts. My breathing. My rushing. My need to accomplish. It all needs to slow, the frack, down. I need time to process. I need to give myself time. A forest walk is a great time to slow it all down. I go with a trusted friend and talk it out. Or I go by myself and internally hash it out. I always make many good points that I wholeheartedly agree with when I talk to myself.

Photo by Rachel Claire on Pexels.com

I look to see where I may be holding back. Is there fear hiding? A need to control the outcome? I stay in those emotions long enough to see that they are not that scary. I heard that the fear of our emotions is like the shadow. Creeping along the wall getting bigger and scarier. But the physiological effects the emotions actually have on me when I move through them is minimal in many instances. It is resistance to those scary shadow parts of the emotion that causes discomfort. Turn on the lights to your emotions around the circumstance. Not only what is readily apparent or the “easy” answer. Stay with it long enough to find your genuine answers.

I attempt to do a daily brain dump in a journal. I find this especially important on those harder days. When I put pen to paper my thoughts get a chance to slow down. I can think through them more clearly. I get a chance to explore different avenues of thought to the end instead of a half- formed thought that gets interrupted by the person coming in to ask how to make supper. And the sound of something breaking in another room. Meanwhile the microwave, dishwasher, washing machine, doorbell and of course the phone are all vying for my attention. Journaling gives me a chance to be present.

Photo by Emily Underworld on Pexels.com

There is always an opportunity for growth. If I allow it. In every difficult circumstance I can be assured that I can grow in some way if I look for ways to see the situation in a more positive light. Reframing my thoughts has been key in my mental healing over the last few years.

For example. Up until two years ago my family was living on the family farm that I grew up on. As soon as we moved there I felt something inside of me come alive again. I loved having animals and mowing with the tractor and picking up feed and being surrounded by the world of agriculture that I grew up loving. And then I was in too much pain to help Brent with the animals and the yard. And then he took a job where he was working away from home. And then I got really sick. And then I had to quit working. And then gas prices shot up. And then our kids were all adults and trying to work in a city an hour away and they were bleeding gas money. And then. And then. And then. Circumstances. I knew all of us needed to move off the farm. I was so sad. But I knew it was the right decision for everyone. I could still be sad. I could be upset that it didn’t work out. I could blame the economy. Society. The government. But where does that get me.

Instead I choose to live in gratitude for this miracle home where we live. There is a place for each person. And dog. There is space for all the vehicles. A yard. A big open space to gather in the kitchen/ living area. I get to hear my adult sons discuss their day or their newest musical they found. I get to hear my grandson laugh and yell and play. I get to hear his running footsteps over my bedroom as I wake up. I am so grateful for what this time has become. It is nothing like what I would have planned but ever so much better.

When you “just can’t” every day, something needs to change. But when an acute situation comes up and you just need to deal with it. Do you need to slow down? Work through any emotions that have been stuck? Or reframe any thoughts that may be holding you back? Forest therapy can help with all of it. As your guide I can show you how the forest can help. Check out my contact page and let me know if you’d like more information on how to book.

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Photo by Brent Munkholm

Thich Nhat Hanh said, Kiss the ground with every step. That is how I felt on my forest walk today. Sweet friends. let me know if you’d like to see the effects of forest therapy in your life.