Exhale, Inhale: A Love Letter to the Forest, and My Client
Walking in the forest is part of my daily routine. Part movement, part meditation, fresh air, solitude and dog bonding time. Renewal. Inspiration. Exhale. Inhale.
Today I followed a favourite trail and the afternoon sunlight was just so…dappling through the cedar lace and emerging leaves and dancing off the running creek, hurrying yesterday’s rain toward the ocean. Suzanne was bounding and darting alongside, and I was suddenly overcome with emotion.
I stopped and stepped off the path, into a grove of wise trees, recalling a session I had with a client earlier in the day. This client is facing truths and resulting choices that are unfair, too big and too soon for this point in their life.
Our time together was heavy and raw. It left an imprint in my heart.
I didn’t realize how much heaviness was still swirling within. As my legs had scaled the rocky trail, the emotion was stirred up, and it suddenly came out my eyes. I leaned on a sturdy tree and looked upward to the high canopy.
I breathed out sorrow for this client.
Breathed out the unfairness.
Breathed out grief for a life upturned, redirected and cut short, for hopes and dreams that won’t be realized.
Breathed out frustration at my lack of being able to fix or do more than witness and offer questions to contemplate.
I let the trees, through their long limbs and fresh leaves, their trunks covered in soft mosses, absorb my breath carrying all this despair.
And I breathed in the cleansed forest air, full of spring hopefulness for this client to find reasons to live through another day, even though the living is hard, so very hard.
I breathed in the scents of new life, and wished it toward this client for their healing and comfort.
I breathed in the rich, earthy, damp fragrance of the forest floor and willed it to hold my client and provide nutrients for their struggle.
I breathed in. I breathed out.
Then I stepped back onto the trail and onward.