Forest Bathing
As much as Osane relished her time in her carefully-tended garden and her freshly-constructed greenhouse, she also greatly enjoyed collecting wild plants from nearby woody mountainside slopes.
She took her time, slowly and quietly walking through the hushed forest, basking in the gleaming rays of sunlight that peeked through the columns of trees to warm her face. She listened intently for the whispers she had come to detect over time, more discrete and quiet than any she had heard from her garden.
The wild plants, compared to those in her garden, required a different level of attention, and a great deal of patience. But the payoff was never not worth it, even on those outings where Osane was entirely unsuccessful. Even if she didn’t find and identify a new green soul, she learned with each attempt how to decode the wild whispers further and grew closer to them. Each visit was meditative and restorative, bringing her calmness and reassurance in a way distinct from but not dissimilar to her garden.
The practice of wandering the woods had started a few years earlier, Osane couldn’t remember quite exactly when but did remember the occasion’s purpose. The village healer had been searching for an herb she didn’t have (brahmi / bacopa monnieri), knowing there might be a good chance they could find it nearby as a creeping and fast-growing perennial herb. One of the women in the village had been suffering from episodes of anxiety and had severe stomachaches accompanying those attacks, and her body had stopped responding to the healer’s usual tricks.
The healer would sometimes wander the countryside nearby in this way, in search for other herbs her own mother had told her of that had unique properties, but were not as widely used or necessary. Osane had joined her, fascinated by the apparent aimlessness of the task: walking with no specific direction or purpose in mind other than to observe and identify, and hopefully uncover their exact need. After that, she joined the healer any time she went on such errands, and began to wander alone as well.
Today, she presses her bare foot slowly down onto a slightly moist bed of moss and loosely sprinkled pine needles. She slows her already sloth-like movements, pausing in the thin sliver of sunlight peeking through the trunks and branches surrounding her. She closes her eyes to listen, breathing in the fresh woody air deep into her stomach.
