Forest Therapy

I have loved the forest all my life. I can’t remember a time when playing in or among the trees was not important to me. From a very young age, we were “forced” outside to play, told not to come inside and would disappear for hours on end scrambling up pines with generous boughs, perfectly spaced for small climbing children. My friends and I would perch in the trees and talk about things that children talk about. We would play hide and seek behind boulders, play chase with leaves and twigs crunching under our feet. We’d explore the many tiny creeks cut through forest and imagine their beginnings and talk about following them all the way to the ocean (even if they ended at the lake ¼  mile away). We were adventurers, fairies, nudists, chasing magic or hunted by ghosts. We built secret forts, discovered climbing boulders that we were certain no other human had ever discovered. We were children at play in nature.

As a teenager, my love did not wane. Tumultuous emotional upheavals drove me into the woods. I found comfort in walking alone over rock walls that once lined a colonists field and around tiny swamps burgeoning with life. The sounds of the wind in the trees, the gentle call of birds and the earthy scent of wet moss calmed me. 

We also explored our wilder sides. On the edge of adulthood, we ran under cover of night to jump naked into the lake, laughing wildly at our own inhibitions. We took to the forest for secret gossip sessions and walked along rivers, blushing with young love. I really believe that these experiences shaped who I have become and I worry for the children of today who don’t seem to have adventures anymore. Their lives are an eerie prophecy-come-true of Plato’s assertion that we all live in a cave and watch the shadows of life playing out on the wall, rather than living in the real world.

I still return to the forest for fun and for peace. Sometimes my forest of choice is inhabited by towering saguaros and coyotes and sometimes by pines, maples and oaks. Whatever the world has in store, I know that the forest is a place I can go for restoration. Will our children have the same experiences? Will they seek the ocean, mountains, streams, lakes and forests for their adventure or peace of mind? I am afraid that if they don’t, they won’t be equipped to handle the stress that comes with life. I’m afraid they won’t have the coping skills to self-manage their worries. Most of all, I fear that they won’t have the experiences of peace and beauty that I have and I find that tragic.