My social media feed is often filled with articles, quotes and people claiming the calming benefits of the Forest. And while I can agree that for many this might be true, it is not necessarily the case for me.
There are articles that proclaim the benefits of the Forest on well-being for example this article by The Times on Forest Bathing.
Maybe these articles are a response to people with such busy lives that they do not know how to slow down, and the Forest becomes a teacher of this.
Being in the Forest is not always calm for me. It depends on the Forest and what she is communicating. By Forest I mean everything that is found in that space. A Forest is so much more than the Trees.
I am never alone.
There is so much happening around me, constantly. Birds busy communicating with each other, looking for food, angry Blackbirds sharing their displeasure that I have come by and disturbed them.
Stand still long enough and the ground is moving... ants, spiders, flowers and leaves pushing up, other insects. Sometimes I catch glimpses of other animals, sometimes long enough to identify, sometimes far too short a time... it is just a movement. Sometimes, especially some of the roe deer they stare back at me, trying to work out my intentions. We stand still looking at each other. As yet there is no trust... and off they bound into the bushes and immediately out of sight. It's like magic, they vanish.
I can watch a bird, and see them and then suddenly they are gone, not that they have moved, but just that they have blended into their environment that my eyes fail to distinguish the bird from the background. They have become one. Until they move again and my eyes can make sense of what I am seeing again.
There are areas of the forest that fill with me an overwhelming sense of emotion. I have not always worked out what that emotion is yet. This could be a part of being autistic, that I realise that many emotions feel the same and are harder to distinguish from each other - so for example love, wonder and joy feel the same, fear, anxiety, worry, anger all feel the same. But I have not fully explored this myself... so I cannot go into more detail about how all this works for me. But I do know that I can feel big in the Forest, and that the massive nature of that feeling is far from calming. It does not mean it is negative, it just means I do not go to the Forest to calm down, or destress but to be filled.
I don't go there with the expectation that I need to be filled, but with open eyes, ears, heart and mind that allows me to be filled.
Like when I run philosophy with children sessions with my preschoolers, I always start with "Listen with your ears, eyes, heart and mind" - so that we are all aware of listening to each other's words, to observing the body language to fully understand, to listen with empathy and respect, even when we do not agree, and to listen with the intention to understand and value the perspective of others, yet not to follow with my eyes shut but to critically think about what does that really mean, how did they come to this conclusion and what do I really think about it.
I have learned to extend this respect to the Forest.
I have to admit I get a bit irritated by other humans tramping through the forest in clusters loudly discussing the woes of their work. Of humans that do not leash their dogs, despite signs everywhere stating that it is a must in a National Park... and it is a must in all areas of nature here in Sweden during these spring months so that dogs do not wander off and accidentally disturb nests, and the new born animals of the Forest.
These people are using the Forest. There is little real respect. It is a space for them to dump their everyday trials and tribulations. Unaware of how their noise disturbs the birds from their daily lives of feeding, or makes them anxious that they might be predators. They seldom look up, they seldom take in the wonder... they don't notice the glistening webs dancing between the trees connecting the whole forest like gossamer telephone wires, or take the time to listen to the song of the robin... they drone on about work... and because I am open I soak up their negative energy. I actively avoid humans. If some approach, I will stand still, or disappear up another trail and allow them to pass by, taking their energy with them.
Its not that I don't enjoy human interaction, or value listening to the woes of others (that is a sign of trust, that I value) - but that I find it such an urban energy and it feels out of place in the Forest.
In the small urban forest near my home in Liljeholmen it is very different. The plants, birds and animals speak urban there too. The energy is totally different.
Who knew that I would be writing such things?? Not me, that is for sure.
So what is this teaching me about early childhood education? Well, as adults we are working with children. Two very different energies.
To be able to fully understand children, play and how they truly learn then we need to slow down, look closely and listen deeply. We need to be open with ears, eyes, heart and mind in order to momentarily put aside our adult agenda and energy to be able to receive the energy of the children. To really listen to what is going on, to truly value play.
We should not be entering the setting with only the intention to pour out our knowledge and competence into the play-ecosystem, but to also to be filled by it - by the wisdom of the children and the play, the whole play-ecosystem.
In the sense the early years setting is like our own forest... for it to best thrive there are roots, canopy and the in-between, there is diversity, not a monoculture, but an environment that can contend with changing seasons, the seasonal variation.... an extreme winter or summer can be devastating for some flora and fauna more than others... diversity protects the whole.
It is able to change and evolve to meet the demands of an ever changing world...
Of course today the climate is changing faster than the Forest can... birth, life, death, birth... is a natural part of existence, and reading Sid Mohandas article "Double Death in Montessori" has made me think of this continuously since then. That if we don't stop and listen, pause long enough to truly reflect on what is actually happening - to create community, "Mwe" then we are going to be our own undoing. Just as clearcutting the forest in the name of "rejuvenating" lacks the true understanding of the Forest. But that will be another post.
I think this photo I took earlier this week was the first time I understood that the delightful Robin redbreast (Or in translated Swedish red chin) has a perfect camouflage! This Robin was very interested in me. We looked at each other for some time. A short song was sung for me (I like to think) before flying off on other business.
This white Wagtail was busy eating the insects cruising on the lake surface. At first the Wagtail watched me nervously, hunting paused. Then decided I must not be a threat, or the tummy was rumbling too much, or the insects looked just too tasty... and resumed hunting. I will be sharing another post about my observations and reflections on this soon.