The Influence of Non-Judgmental Awareness: Mending the Nervous System

There is always in February some one day, at least, when one smells the distant, but surely coming, summer.

-Gertrude Jekyll

If you’ve ever tried to “think positive” while your body is screaming, you already know who wins.

Pain wins. Exhaustion wins. A nervous system on red alert wins. Any pep talk given to said nervous system is bringing a Post-it note to a tornado.

And then we blame ourselves! Because obviously the problem is a personal moral failure, not a human being a human.

In forest therapy, we take a different approach. We don’t try to out-think the body. We learn to listen to it without judgment. In doing so, the body finally gets what it has been asking for all along. Safety.

Biology’s Rebellion: The Dangers of Overriding Nature

Many people living with chronic pain think they should be able to cope better.

They should be stronger.

They should push through.

They should be more grateful it’s not worse.

But here’s a humdinger of a thought. When your body is sending powerful distress signals, your conscious mind has very little leverage.

The attempt to escape from pain is what creates more pain.

Gabor Maté

Neill Williams, on the Success Genius Podcast, explains it beautifully. When you are hungry, exhausted, or in pain, your biology overrides your attempts to think or feel differently.

The vagus nerve, your internal communication highway, links brain, heart, lungs, digestion, and the stress response. If that system is dysregulated, focus, creativity, decision-making, and connection all suffer.

Your body is a boundary of your soul. Treat it with care.

Jean Shinoda Bolen

As I’ve said before. This isn’t a motivation problem. It’s a nervous system problem.

And until the body feels safer, it will keep turning up the heat.

Rushing: The Trap That Keeps Us in Survival Mode

There is more to life than increasing its speed.

Ghandi

I dare say, we hurry through the day, override our limits, stay stimulated late into the night, fall into bed, wake up feeling four days past our bedtime, and repeat.

Then we wonder why our system is constantly braced for danger. We keep hitting refresh on the same nervous system and expecting a software update.

From a survival perspective, it makes perfect sense. Nothing in that cycle signals “You can stand down now.”

So the body continues to send messages. And they are rarely gentle. Whispers don’t usually create change. Pain often does.

To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work.

Mary Oliver

“I Would, But I Simply Can’t.”

I often hear how wonderful forest therapy sounds.

I wish I could. Maybe someday. When life calms down.

But healing asks for time. Attention. Slowing down. Repetition.

Until then, forest therapy remains a lovely idea instead of lived remedy.

Word to the wise. Your body will keep requesting the appointment. It has an unlimited follow-up policy and will keep calling until someone answers.

If you don’t schedule a break, your body will take one for you, and it probably won’t be at a convenient time.

-Unknown

The Remarkable Power of Non-Judgmental Awareness

Here is where the shift happens.

When we practice noticing sensations without evaluating them, we step out of the inner fight.

Instead of:

  • This is bad.
  • Why am I like this?
  • I should be better.

(There are no gold stars for hating life correctly)

We try:

  • Warmth
  • Tightness.
  • Pulsing.
  • Cool air on my cheek.

No argument. No story.

Judgment activates defense. Awareness invites regulation.

The nervous system reads neutrality as safety.

The organism knows.

Eugene Gendlin

Nature: The Ultimate Stage for Inspiration

The forest is a masterclass in non-urgency.

Nothing is asking you to be different.

Everything belongs. You. Belong.

Research into nature exposure consistently shows reductions in cortisol, blood pressure, muscle tension, and rumination.

But experientially, I’ve seen something even more important. People soften. Attention and breathing widens.

The body begins to renegotiate its alarm state.

Nature provides gentle sensory anchors. Light, texture, birdsong, air movement. These allow awareness without overwhelm. For someone with chronic pain, this is crucial. We are not adding more intensity; we are expanding capacity.

Astravore: (n) A soul that keeps feeding on hope even after disappointment- light-hungry, resilient, unbreakable. -ViviJan

You are larger than what is happening to you.

Michael Singer

Silencing the Alarm: A Lesson in Balance

Imagine a car alarm that has been blaring for years.

You wouldn’t yell affirmations at it and tell it to be quiet.

You would look for the threat it thinks it perceives.

Non-judgmental awareness in nature is how we open the hood.

Each calm moment says, “No one is breaking in right now.”

Over time, the alarm system recalibrates.

My Story

I’ve experienced moments in my forest therapy practice when I wanted to do it all perfectly. To follow all the “right steps.”

When I go in with this focus I notice the pain is still there. The frustration is still there. I start thinking about all the years of pain I have ahead of me. Of financial strain. And the weight it adds to every relationship.

Then I remember to just breathe. Focus on today. Right. Now.

I start to feel the breeze on my face and hear it making its way through the trees around me. I sense the solid earth beneath me.

The pain does not vanish. But it’s not the only voice anymore. It has just been hogging the microphone in my head. 🎤 🤫

There is support available here whenever I need it. In the birds and the trees and the solid ground. This may sound odd. But this shift in thinking moves the pain inside a larger field of safety.

This is regulation. I just keep coming back to it.

The best way out is always through.

– Robert Frost

A Gentle Invitation to Explore

  1. Find something in nature that feels steady. A tree, a rock, the shoreline.
  2. Let your eyes rest there.
  3. Now widen your awareness to include three additional sensations that are neutral or pleasant.
  4. Move back and forth between the discomfort and the wider field

    You are teaching your nervous system that pain can exist without emergency.

    Do this regularly and the vagal pathways that support calm begin to strengthen.

    Don’t just do something, sit there.

    Sylvia Boorstein

    The Real Result: Persistence in Life

    When regulation improves, people often notice clearer thinking, better sleep, and easier connection. Not because they forced positivity, but because their biology finally cooperated.

    You are no longer fighting upstream. You are being carried. Like these little bitty icebergs I watch on the river. Floating by. 👇

    The Closing “Peace”

    If we keep living in a way that ensures the alarm stays active, nothing changes.

    But when we make space, even small, consistent space for non-judgmental sensory awareness in the forest, the body hears something new.

    I’m safe. I can soften. I don’t have to shout today.

    And maybe, that is where my healing lingers. I just have to take time away, to meet it there.

    The body always leads us home… if we can simply learn to trust sensation and stay with it long enough for it to reveal appropriate action.

    -Pat Ogden

    Take care, my friends. I leave you with these February thoughts that gave me a little chuckle:

    My February workout plan is mostly just shivering until my muscles get tired.

    Love is in the air this February, but so is the flu, so please stay back.

    Forest Bathing: Breaking the Pain Cycle

    What if the goal isn’t to eliminate pain? But to change your relationship with it.

    Not by forcing positivity. Not by chasing the next miracle cure. But by learning how to stand in a forest, breathe, and gently step outside the storm long enough to see it clearly.

    That’s where mindfulness in the forest becomes powerful. Not as an escape from pain, but as a way to interrupt the pain cycle itself.

    Benefits don’t emerge from merely experiencing mindfulness as a state. Instead they happen when we cultivate mindfulness as a personal trait.

    @brilliantlegalmind

    Breaking the Chains of the Pain Cycle

    Chronic pain is never only physical. It is neurological, emotional, and deeply shaped by our stress response.

    This is not to say that you don’t experience actual, real, physical, deep pain. Only that our pain experience can be altered according to how we choose to interpret it. Which is especially important in chronic pain when so often there are no answers or treatments.

    Pain feeds on:

    • Fear of what’s coming next
    • Hyper-vigilance in the body
    • Frustration over what we’ve lost
    • The endless search for a fix

    This creates a familiar loop.

    Pain → tension → fear → more pain.

    Mindfulness, especially when practiced in nature, doesn’t deny this cycle.

    It teaches us how to step out of it.

    Don’t stress the ‘could haves’, if it should have, it would have.

    MINDFULNESS (n):

    “The practice of being aware of your body, mind and feelings in your present moment, thought to create a feeling of calm.”

    Finding Harmony: In Nature’s Whispering Wisdom

    Mindfulness anywhere can help.

    Mindfulness in a forest does something more.

    Natural environments gently regulate the nervous system without any concentrated effort on our part:

    • Heart rate slows
    • Breathing deepens
    • Muscles soften
    • The brain shifts from threat mode to restoration mode

    Research on shinrin-yoku (forest bathing) shows that time in forests lowers cortisol, reduces blood pressure, and increases parasympathetic nervous system activity (the part of us responsible for rest, repair, and emotional balance.)

    In other words, the forest doesn’t erase pain.

    It loosens pain’s grip.

    Captaining the Currents of Our Existence

    Mindfulness helps us understand the waters in which we are swimming.

    If you live with chronic pain, the pain is not you.

    It is the water around you.

    Some days you can float on your back.

    Some days you need the survival position.

    Some days you just enjoy swimming. (But those days are few and far between.)

    Some days you simply tread water and keep breathing.

    Mindfulness helps us step just far enough back to see,

    This is the water. This is not my identity.

    That small shift changes everything.

    Untangling Hope: Innovative Lessons for a Brighter Tomorrow

    In the podcast Untangle: What Does it Mean to Live a Good, Meaningful Life? Despite the (really) Hard Stuff, philosopher Kieran Setiya reflects on living with chronic pain and the trap many of us fall into. Hoping only for a cure. His story resonates with me. Because it is also my story. Is it yours too?

    For years, he moved from doctor to doctor thinking, maybe this one will fix it. When he stopped, something unexpected happened. He felt freedom. Less frustrated. More grounded in how he would actually live his life.

    At first, he thought he had rejected hope.

    Later, he realized he had simply changed what he hoped for.

    Not hope for a magic solution.

    Hope for a life that would still feel meaningful. Even if pain remained in the background.

    He describes the exhausting seesaw many of us live on:

    hope → despair → hope → despair.

    And suggests something radical. Getting off the seesaw altogether! That doesn’t mean stop seeing doctors or looking for answers. What it does mean is this.

    The real question isn’t:

    Should I hope or despair?

    It’s,

    What is realistic to hope for right now?

    Mindfulness in the forest supports exactly this shift. Grounding hope in lived possibility instead of fantasy cures.

    Choosing Joy in a Body That Hurts

    It’s been said that one person’s joy ride is another person’s panic.

    I love riding on the back of my husband’s motorcycle. Joy.

    I love sitting at the front of a sailboat as it bounces across the water. Joy.

    Someone else might question my sanity.

    I don’t like roller coasters that go upside down. Panic.

    I have no desire to drive an F1 car. Panic.

    I question the sanity of people who enjoy those things. Which made me wonder.

    What influences our desires? Our thoughts? Our emotions?

    Are we just born joyful or grouchy? And that is how we have to live out our days?

    Or do we choose? Can we choose our thoughts, our desires and thereby influence our emotions?

    What if, even in a tangled mess of pain, emotions, relationships, and loss, we are allowed to choose joy?

    Not reckless joy.

    Not denial.

    But brave joy.

    The kind that says:

    I will still step into wonder.

    I will still feel exhilaration.

    I will still live.

    That is what mindfulness in the forest has given me.

    I get to decide.

    And honestly?

    There’s no need for recreational anxiety around here. There’s enough regular anxiety to go around.

    Inward Insights: The Wisdom Within

    Look within. Within is the fountain of good, and it will ever bubble up, if thou wilt ever dig.

    -Marcus Aurelius

    The forest helps us dig. Quietly, gently, without force.

    Mindfulness reduces activity in brain networks that amplify pain through rumination and emotional reactivity, lowering perceived suffering even when pain remains.

    Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity.

    -Simone Weil

    When we give attention to our own experience. Without judgment. We change how pain lives in us.

    Nature’s Cradle: A Forest Therapy Practice

    Interrupting the Pain Cycle (7 minutes)

    You can do this in a forest, park, or anywhere you can sense the natural world.

    1. Arrive (1 minute)

    Stand or sit comfortably. Let your eyes soften. Notice three natural textures. Bark, stone, leaf, snow, or water.

    2. External Anchor Practice (2 minutes)

    Choose one steady element in the landscape. A tree trunk, rock, horizon line, or patch of ground.

    Let your attention rest there. Softly.

    When your mind drifts toward pain or worry, gently return your awareness to that anchor.

    This shifts the nervous system from internal threat scanning to external safety awareness. Especially helpful if breath-focused practices feel uncomfortable.

    3. Name the Water (2 minutes)

    Silently say:

    This is pain. This is not me.

    Notice sensation as experience, not identity.

    4. Choose Your Stroke (2 minutes)

    Ask yourself:

    Do I need to float, swim, or rest today?

    Let your body answer.

    Mindfully Brave

    For a long time, I thought mindfulness meant becoming calmer.

    What I didn’t expect was that it would make me braver. Braver about feeling, braver about choosing joy, braver about living fully even when my body hurts.

    The forest didn’t take away my pain.

    It gave me back my choice.

    Key Takeaways

    Mindfulness in the forest teaches us:

    Pain is real. Suffering is optional. Hope doesn’t have to live on a seesaw.

    We can step out of the waters long enough to see them clearly. And then choose how to move within them.

    Or as one forest therapy guide once said quietly on a trail,

    We don’t come to the woods to escape life. We come to remember how to live it.

    Trek Into the Frosty Adventure

    If this spoke to you, you may also enjoy my post on finding connection through group forest therapy walks, where I explore how shared presence in nature reduces isolation and builds resilience for people living with pain and fatigue.

    Faeloria (n):

    The beauty that comes from the wounds you thought would destroy you.

    Research at a Glance: Why This Works

    Bottom line.

    Mindfulness in the forest doesn’t cure pain. But it interrupts the feedback loop that keeps pain amplified by fear, stress, and resistance.

    For those interested in the research, check out the following links. Let me know what you think in the comments.

    1️⃣ Forest environments reduce stress hormones and activate relaxation responses

    The 2010 Shinrin-yoku studies show forests lower cortisol, pulse rate, blood pressure, and increase parasympathetic nervous system activity (relaxation response).

    👉 “The Physiological Effects of Shinrin-yoku…” — Environmental Health and Preventive Medicine (Park et al.)

    Also see:

    👉 Forest bathing reduces cortisol and stress — systematic review on cortisol as a stress biomarker

    2️⃣ Forest bathing supports psychological well-being, mood, and anxiety reduction

    Systematic reviews and meta-analyses show forest exposure reduces anxiety, depression, and improves emotional well-being.

    👉 The effects of forest bathing on psychological well-being 

    Additional evidence on emotional and stress benefits of forest settings:

    👉 Forest bathing: effects on mood and stress recovery

    3️⃣ Forest immersion reduces negative affect and enhances mindfulness & introspection

    A recent systematic review shows forest bathing decreases negative effects and enhances mindfulness and introspection. Key components of emotional regulation and pain resilience.

    👉 Effects on self-criticism, self-compassion & mindfulness 

    4️⃣ Mindfulness and Pain Research : Neuroscience & Catastrophizing

    ✔ Mindfulness meditation alters how the brain processes pain

    Studies show mindfulness meditation changes pain-related brain activity. Indicating real nervous system engagement, not just placebo.

    👉 Mindfulness meditation helps reduce pain through distinct neural mechanisms 

    ✔ Mindfulness is associated with lower pain catastrophizing

    Research suggests higher mindfulness traits correlate with lower pain catastrophizing and greater ability to cope with pain.

    👉 Trait mindfulness linked to higher pain thresholds & reduced catastrophizing

    5️⃣ Mindfulness meditation itself has measurable effects on pain perception

    Comprehensive reviews of mindfulness meditation include clinical and experimental insights into how it reduces pain intensity and unpleasantness across conditions:

    👉 Mindfulness meditation–based pain relief review

    January for the 5 senses:

    Sight: late morning and early evening light on bright, blue clear days
    Sound: shushing of steps in the snow
    Taste: hot teas with honey
    Smell: evergreen trees
    Feel: the touch of cold noses and toes