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Home > Spirituality > Expanding Spiritual Awareness
Finding Serenity in a Walk in the Woods Imagery Script by Arlene F. Harder, MA, MFT Please Note: This piece can be used as a complement to the slide show you can find in The Nature Connection.
As you read the words or listen to someone read the words to you, allow yourself to thoroughly experience the sense of calm serenity that comes from disconnecting from the feeling that you have to "do" something, but can simply be yourself, which creates the setting for an experience of deep serenity and poise. Although you may want to experience the exercise much as you might walk through a real forest at a steady, slow pace, when you come to a set of periods ( . . . ), you might also imagine that you stop and pause, taking in the scene around you. Especially at those points allow yourself to create as vivid a picture as possible of what you imagine would likely happen if you really were taking a walk in the woodsand able to disconnect from the pressures and responsibilities of daily life.
As you prepare to take an imaginary walk through a meadow, close you eyes and take a deep breath (the kind you would take if you were outdoors on a clear, invigorating morning) and, as you exhale, allow your muscles to feel relaxed and loose and notice the quieting sensation of your hands at rest. . . . Relax a little more by noticing your feet and how they feel within your shoes and stockings or how they feel if you do not have them covered. . . . Allow your body to be fully supported and relax your muscles even more. . . . And now, I invite you to imagine that it is almost dawn and you have camped in a beautiful meadow next to a vast and ancient forest. You are absolutely safe here. As the night's darkness gradually lightens, you listen to the calls of the early-rising birds and wonder what creatures you will see in the forest. You feel an almost primitive joy in anticipation of spending time with nature's bounty. Feeling refreshed by the slight chill in the early morning air, you take a deep breath and quickly get dressed. . . . You fix your breakfast and a sandwich for lunch. . . . Then, pulling a light day pack onto your shoulders, you leave your camping spot and follow a path that leads across the meadow. . . . Looking up, you watch a flock of geese as they fly wing-tip to wing-tip in formation across the sky. Behind them small white clouds dissolve into blue space. . . . As you begin walking along the trail and look out across the meadow, the early dew sparkles on purple stalks of lupine, blue Columbine, white daisies, yellow buttercups and bright orange poppies. . . . The wildflowers in the tall yellow-green grass contrast sharply with the deeper greens and browns of the forest. . . . And then your attention is drawn to what appears to be a grand entrance to the forest with leafy sentinels growing on either side of the trail. The smaller guards are tall fern which grow in dense clumps, attended by an occasional wild iris. They are flanked by quaking aspen with shimmering leaves. . . . Imagine what it would be like to stand in the middle of the meadow, taking in the sights and sounds and smells of nature. . . . If you would like, you could imagine you follow the path at the edge of a sunny meadow with tall yellow-green grass and bright flowers that sparkle with dew in the early morning. As you pass tall fern that grow in dense clumps, you pass some quaking aspen with shimmering leaves that stand like sentinels at the entrance to the forest. Take a moment now and allow an image to form of a path that enters a forest. . . . Realizing that you have nothing to do at this moment except to walk with awareness among the trees in this quiet and safe forest, you continue along the path. The first tree you notice is a tall dogwood in glorious bloom. All around the tree is a crowd of small moths, iridescent butterflies and other winged creatures that have been attracted by the snowy white flowers of the dogwood and perform an aerial ballet. . . . Watching this aerial ballet, you notice that around the base of the dogwood are many feathery fern and you bend down to examine them more closely. As you examine the curling tendrils more closely, you notice that there are drops of dew on each fern. . . . Now, you have been told that when you taste the dew in a forest that you taste contentment. And so you carefully select one fern and then, with your fingers, gently slide the dew off the leaves and taste the clear sweet circles of water as they drop onto your tongue. As you do so, peace and contentment fills your heart. . . . Beyond the fern is a large, rough granite rock. In the open sun this would be a common, plain old gray rock. But here it is made beautiful and enchanted by lacy shadows of leaves that continually change patterns as light streams through the living ceiling high above. And all around you the eternal forest is illuminated by a soft and gentle glow, revealing branching ribs of trees rising thirty or forty feet high with leaves in every shade of green. . . . Among these smaller trees you see an occasional stately redwood, casting its long shadow across the path. . . . There is something majestic about all the trees in this forest, of course, not just the redwoods. From each of them flows deep serenity and poise. They have no pretense to be other than what they are. . . . Taking in the quiet dignity of the trees, you realize that your possession and status are of no consequence in the long run and you feel deep satisfaction in simply recognizing that fact. Stopping in the middle of the trail, you take a deep breath, allowing the serenity of this lovely place to fill every pore and cell of your being, responding with all your heart to your surroundings. . . . You may want to continue this walk in your mind in any way that feels comfortable and then, when you are ready for the exercise to come to a close, again take a deep breath . . . gently open your eyes . . . and as you prepare to return to the normal activities of the day, bring with you the serenity and peace of this place within. © Copyright 1997, Arlene
F. Harder, MA, MFT
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