Seeking Serenity in a Turbulent World
I went neighborhood bathing before breakfast today.
Before your eyebrows disappear into your hairline, this did not involve my playing Goldilocks with various neighbors' bathtubs. In fact, no shocking display of inappropriate behavior was involved. This early morning ritual of ambling the winding streets surrounding my townhouse cluster is simply my version of what trendy types call "forest bathing."
"Shinrin-yoku" is a term coined in 1982 by the Japanese Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry, and Fisheries. It's basically what our parents and grandparents called a nice, soothing stroll through the woods—although I suspect there may be some tree hugging involved in this latest incarnation of an ages-old practice. The term alternately translates to "absorbing the forest atmosphere." And science appears to support the claims made by its proponents.
Trees and plants emit phytoncides, essential oils that protect flora from parasites and germs. These natural antimicrobials also benefit human bodies by increasing natural killer cell activity and promoting heightened immunity. As a bonus, they have anti-inflammatory properties which reduce oxidative stress, enhance sleep, and reduce blood glucose levels.
Studies of urban versus rural walkers conclude that immersing oneself in a forest environment lowers pulse rate and blood pressure by promoting parasympathetic nerve activity: Being surrounded by nature allows a "settling down" from fight-or-flight mode to the calmer rest-and- digest state.
Devani Paige, a holistic practitioner, explains this effect in more poetic terms: "There is a presence, a healer . . . a beneficial quality that is felt while slowing down in nature." Christ-believers understand that this "healer" has a name: God, the Creator, who designed the natural world to provide all that we need for health and well-being—antidotes to our blundering, high-stress, bacon cheeseburger lifestyles.
My small patch of pavement, lush with greenery yet scented with the occasional whiff of exhaust, obviously doesn't provide the wholesome abundance of the Creator's pristine natural environment. But I've been looking for ways to calm the chatter in my hyperactive brain, and a morning ramble is one implement in my newly assembled toolkit.
Meandering about, making friends with suburban squirrels probably won't get me to the levels of ecstasy promised by the nonprofit Tree Lafayette, which advises:
"…let nature enter through your ears, eyes, nose, mouth, hands and feet. Listen to the birds singing and the breeze rustling…Look at the…sunlight filtering through the branches. Smell the fragrance of the forest…Taste the freshness of the air…Place your hands on the trunk of a tree. Dip your fingers or toes in a stream. Lie on the ground. Drink in the flavor of the forest and release your sense of joy and calm…Now you have connected with nature. You have crossed the bridge to happiness."
However, since sprawling on the ground is sure to get me reported to the townhome association board, let's tweak the above advice a bit. After all, real happiness, true peace, simply requires looking past the forest to see the tree Maker.
“Peace I leave with you, My peace I give you.”
(John 14:27)