I step into the forest and it feels almost like stepping into a different world.
I can feel my body and mind adjusting to the environment.
I came here by car, packing it with “stuff” we might need while we’re out.
Emergency kits with first aid and spare clothing should anyone get wet or cold.
Materials that could help us build and make things, like rope and twine.
Maybe some cooking pots and a kettle in case we have a fire and wish to share some food, sometimes made with ingredients we gather from the forest.
Nettles. Dandelion greens. Maple tree sap.
We play with this forest each week, as do many others.
(Mostly beings of non human form).
So we make sure to take out all that we bring in each time we visit.
I might have packed that car in a hurry, checking the time, worrying about being late.
Wanting to be sure I’m prepared for the children’s arrival.
My mind is racing, listing everything I need, the “plan” for the day.
It’s also filled with thoughts of things that happened yesterday and this morning.
Of hours spent staring at a computer screen or phone.
In order to get "work done."
I feel more connected to websites, emails addresses, and font types than I do the ground beneath my feet.
I'm also creating a to do list for when I’ll get home later.
The things I've yet to get done and are piling up like a basket of dirty laundry.
Oh ya, that's right. I also need to do the laundry.
I notice the tenseness in my body, maybe even quickened breathing, but I try to ignore it.
This is just “normal life.”
The hustle and bustle from one thing to another.
The everpresent baseline feeling of stress that’s ignored.
I make myself focus. Ok I’ve got it all, I’m ready.
