Jessica Hearne
CBF Field Personnel, Danville, Va.
“The sun shines not on us but in us. The rivers flow not past, but through us. Thrilling, tingling, vibrating every fiber and cell of the substance of our bodies, making them glide and sing. The trees wave and the flowers bloom in our bodies as well as our souls, and every bird song, wind song, and tremendous storm song of the rocks in the heart of the mountains is our song, our very own, and sings our love.”
—John Muir
I don’t sit still well and never really have. I have always gravitated toward work that would keep me on my feet and constantly moving. In my work with the church at Grace and Main, I am out and about all the time—managing the Urban Farm, helping people with transportation, picking up and delivering donated items. By the time I finally sit down in the evening, I am often surprised by how sore my feet are. I love to be moving and doing!
When it comes to the parts of my work that are less active, it is sometimes difficult to convince my mind and body to stop moving. Whether it’s returning phone calls, submitting financial statements or sending quick emails, the transition to stillness is jarring, and I find myself making an excuse to get up and move around every so often to try to clear my head. During these times when the need to be still is too overwhelming, I take some time to go outside.
Recently, I learned the term “forest bathing,” which I find very intriguing. The idea comes from Japan, where people started practicing it in the 1980s as a way to fight burnout in a society that was increasingly technology and achievement oriented. The term describes a practice of immersing oneself in a forest, connecting with creation through mindfulness practice while surrounded by greenery. I didn’t know the term until recently, but as soon as I learned about this practice, I immediately believed in the validity of it. After all, I believe that my own desire to go outside comes from the need to connect with my Creator by being among creation.
So, when I am feeling overwhelmed—when my thoughts are jumbled and my body can’t be still—I step outside. Even just five minutes among the flowers and birds in my own front yard will help me feel grounded and clear my head. When life and work are overwhelming and I need to take time to listen for the voice of God, I take a walk on a nature trail or along the river that winds through our city. The smell of honeysuckle, the sight of deer and groundhogs, the sounds of rushing water, all proclaim the glory of God. They are a reminder of the words of the prophet Isaiah: “For you shall go out in joy, and be led back in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall burst into song, and the trees of the fields shall clap their hands.” (Is. 55:12 NRSV).
Pray, Practice, Ponder
This week, try on the spiritual practice of forest bathing. You can do this in a park near your home, in your yard if you have one or even on a tree-lined city street. Step outside and immerse yourself in the world around you with all of your senses. Take off your shoes, if you are able, and walk through grass. Touch your hands to the trunk of a tree. Smell a leaf or flower. Soak up the energy of the natural world.
Pray. . .Give. . .Go.
