This post is by Kristina Domsic, one of the facilitators of our upcoming Seeds of Intention: Yoga & Nature Retreat, May 24-26.
One of the things that makes our upcoming Seeds of Intention retreat unique is that participants will get to try out Forest Therapy, also known as Shinrin-yoku, or Forest Bathing, with a certified guide. This is an amazing way to explore the beautiful landscape around Harmony Dawn retreat centre. The landscape of rolling meadow, gardens, and forest around the centre have so much to offer.
When people first hear about the idea of forest therapy, they often have an intuitive sense of some of the ways this practice could be beneficial; since we were young, many of us have heard that fresh air is good for us! When we have felt overwhelmed by stressful situations, loved ones might have suggested we go for a walk to help shake it off and gain some new perspective. That part makes sense.
So, why not just go for a simple walk outside on your own?
Well, going for a walk outside on your own is definitely a good idea. But, there are also some stand-out benefits to joining a guided Forest Therapy session! Here are some of the highlights of what you can expect on our Forest Therapy sessions at theSeeds of Intention Retreatthis spring:
I called it my artist’s retreat, to describe to others why I was going away all by myself.I have always been one to juggle too many balls in the form of jobs, socializing, craft projects and learning new things. A few balls in particular had been dropped for too long, so I decided to set aside some time just for them. I began constructing an agenda of how I’d spend my time on my fantastic retreat: yoga practice, meditation, plenty of sleep, hikes and bike rides through the wilderness, and above all, making a lot of art.
I booked a cabin for the week leading up to the Summer Solstice. I was ready to get up early, tackle my art and get somewhere with my meditation and yoga practice.But my retreat had something else in store for me.
At a contact dance workshop this summer, I participated in an exercise that included walking backwards along a forest path. The exercise encouraged us to sense the space behind us, which is a useful awareness to cultivate in dance. I walked backwards for over an hour along a winding forest path, over jagged rocks, bumpy tree roots and clumps of moss. The sensation was fascinating. I realized that I have had a habit of looking down at the ground as I walk, in order not to trip. Facing away from where I was walking to required me to slow down a great deal and sense carefully with my feet the texture and topography of the ground. Looking down was no longer a helpful strategy. My gaze was up and my awareness surrounded me like a sphere. I was no longer focused on moving ahead, on getting somewhere; I was filled up with the view of the landscape I was moving through, and an energetic sense of the landscape I was backing into.
One of the most noticeable differences in the experience of walking backwards is that your view is constantly widening. Rather than things disappearing from your peripheral vision (which is what happens when you move forwards) the landscape appears slowly at your sides and seems to bloom out and emerge from the edges of your vision.What you see seems to grow in context and size, rather than shrink in anticipation and pursuit of your destination.Walking backwards, one is not preoccupied with the destination, rather, with having the fullest sense of the landscape, and of treading carefully on the ground.Continue reading “Walking Backwards – Widening My View”
Monica recently graduated from our Teacher Training program, and currently volunteers behind the desk on Friday mornings. In this post she shares about her experience of practicing yoga outside in the elements, and in particular, during a summer storm! As the weather warms up we might think about taking our mat outside for a few poses in the sunlight (or the rain). We hope you enjoy Monica’s poetic writing.
There wouldn’t be a concept of Space if the Earth element were nonexistent.
I’ve always had the desire to ground myself. The enormity of bringing myself down from lapses of panic requires more mental concentration than I sometime deem possible. Anxiety has a home nested within my chest. A taut, clenching sensation blooms words of worry and fear – in replacement of mindfulness – up my throat; sometimes only to have something spoken to fill the space.Continue reading “Thunder and Enlightening [Practicing Yoga Outside in the Rain]”