Breathe in the Woods

A brief meditation.

I have always found meditation extremely challenging. My mind can be noisy. And difficult to quiet (that’s how I have been instructed to meditate). I become frustrated because I am usually unsuccessful if I attempt to silence my thoughts. There is inevitably a thought that slips past my vigilant defenses. Once that occurs, I become intimidated by that task and before I know it, it seems that every thought in the world is flooding into my mind. Even if I notice what is happening, and begin again, the cycle refreshes and around and around I go without any of the solace promised by the proponents of meditation.

Textures and colors of the forest fade together.

Do not fear. If the “quiet the mind” method of meditation seems daunting, there are other ways to go about the practice. It does not have to be such a controlled and calculated task. The simplest way that I have found to achieve it: spend time in nature and breathe. This technique hinges on the concept of “oneness with the wild”. Deep, slow breaths and the boundary between my body and the natural world dwindles. The timeless connection with my surroundings render my thoughts relatively insignificant. With my back against a one hundred year old oak tree, my usual concerns and preoccupations are distant and unimportant.

When I breathe in the woods, it helps me to understand my relationship with the wild. If my focus lands on action and task, I can forget that I am part of something larger than myself. My breath brings me back swiftly. The simplicity makes it accessible. In this form of meditation, I find that I can enter a slightly different sensory realm. The three dimensional world fades into a singular plane of lines, textures and colors. An accidental daydream. I am intertwined with that around me. I am aware of my insignificance on a natural scale. 

The planet that we inhabit is ancient and indifferent. It may sound paradoxical, but that is reassuring. It is comforting to be reminded that I am part of a vast natural fabric. The atoms that constitute my body are derived from it and will return to it when I die. It lightens the mortal burdens that can feel so overwhelming.

So breathe in the woods. Deeply. Soften into the textures. Soften into the vast expanse. There my thoughts and my worries fade into another world that I am part of, but often forget. There is comfort in the knowledge that I am not as important as I trick myself into believing sometimes. Breathe deeply in the wild. I am part of something immense. Something powerful, and wise in its own right. 

Breathe. Go into nature and breathe. Perhaps something interesting will happen.