This one is for you Sensei, for giving it a name and helping me put the pieces together. I love you heaps and am ever so grateful for having you in my life.
Forest Bathing, originated in 1980s Japan, designed to combat stress (and death) from overwork by slowing down and connect with nature using your senses. In laymans terms, it is a slow, concious, mindfull walk in a natural environment where one embraces the humen-nature connection and replenishes all the nourishing elements of it.
Every so often, maybe once a week, I have the urge to go out, just outside, anywhere with people. I want to move amongst humans, where glimpses of connections between them can be seen and felt.
So I go to the park and watch parents air out their kiddos, having a yarn while groups of walkers, joggers, and other excercisers pass by. Or I go to the beach, the popular tourist-y one, and watch the clans and couples and all sorts of groups interact and enjoy life.
My favorite are the markets, though, where I can let myself be carried along the eddies and currents of people movement, feeling the vibe of the crowd, noting little interactions between individuals.
When I come back from those excursions, I feel better, more grounded, less isolated, more joyful.
I took my lovely sensei on one of these recently, and when trying to explain why I do this regularly and with what sort of feelings, she asked me if I had ever heard of Forest Bathing. When I said that I had heard it, but not actually ever looked into what it is supposed to be, she explained it and added on “you don’t forest bathe, you people bathe” and hearing it said just so made a whole lot of connections between experiences and stories visible to me.
I do people bathe. I walk into those places and consciously let myself absorb the vibe of them, the feelings and energy around me. I have no target or goal on these walks, no finish line to reach, no tasks to accomplish on the way. All I do is wander and watch. I always come home with at least 2 little things that stuck with me as beautiful, that I then find myself telling people about.
Like the gaggle of seniors that took a walk to end it sitting on a bench, enjoying the view of the ocean while chatting away. Or the grandma patiently listening to an excitedly babbeling kid with a look of joy on her face while the parents buy vegtables. Or the teenage first love couple that is riding a scooter together. Sometimes it might just be the look on someone’s face, or an impression of zen emanating from a person.
Little things, human things, things of connection and connectedness.
And when I return, I find my own connection meter less empty. It is out there, love, kindness, joy; and having soaked in it for a while, I find my outlook on life changed.
Now I have a word for it – People Bathing.
Let’s make it a thing.
Why? We’ve been bombarded with the warnings and messages of “be afraid of other humans” and “don’t share space with strangers” continuously over the last 2 years, and our magical, wonderful, adaptable human brains, are letting us forget how much we want and need it other humans and the sharing of space with strangers. After all, our brains are continuously developing new capacities and refinements – or losing them, depending upon how we use them. Gerald Huether has some great insight into the topic, well before 2020, so definitely unbiased.
And much more personally: I am witnessing this loss of appetite for human interaction in people around me, friends and family alike.
I hear “Let’s do take away, so we don’t need to share space with others” from the most urbanite friends I have, even though it is currently not forbidden to socialize in a restaurant. We have adopted a voluntary isolation policy that 2 years ago was not imaginable. Isolation is bad for us – there are myriads of studies proving that. But it appears that if forced upon us long enough, we forget what a walk amongst humans can do for us.
I heard a tale telling recount of an unintended people bath from a family member, who, upon entering the venue, immediately thought “oh, there’s waaaay too many people in here, and no one keeps enough distance, that is not right” only to end up having the best night in a year and closing the recount with “I needed to be confronted with it to remember how much I need this”. I will add to the tale that it has been another years since and as no accidental people bathing has occured, they have again completely forgotten the need.
So, let’s people bathe. Let’s remember that people are a good thing, that connectedness amongst more than just your inner circle of family is a human need and makes us sick when unfulfilled.
Steel Caps to Uggs 