"A minute later, Sue came outside, wiping her eyes. I was at the door in a flash to hold her up. She whispered with a faint smile, “He’s breathing easy now.” Every time I read this I cry and I've read it multiple times. This is so sacred, Christine. Turning a grueling situation into forest bathing saved me near the end of my journey this past Saturday. Honestly, being present in nature, being aware of the oneness of it all is what draws me back time after time, mile after mile. Thanks again, friend.
Thanks Steve! I cried writing it, as they were such lovely people who I got to know well and still think about.
Your emrace of nature via trail running is a profound one. And it sounds like there will be a post forthcoming from you about your experience forest bathing!
Absolutely. Hopefully many posts. No matter what's going on with me, the forest, the mountains, they're always there and their invitation for me to take sanctuary with them is so reassuring to me.
As a pastor, I deeply appreciate your work as a chaplain, being present at so many moments of suffering and death. Being on the Maine coast, my folks end up in three different hospitals, ranging from 30 minutes away to 90 minutes. I depend on chaplains to be there when I can't. Lovely story about the farmer.
How hard it must be to not be able to be there as much as you may want to due to distance. Chaplains certainly appreciate the congregational ministers too. The other day my intern went to a Cardiac Arrest and was so happy that the patient's pastor happened to be there so he realizeed he wasn't needed and could go back to the office and actually eat his lunch!
Thank you for sharing this lovely story Christine.
Having been a farmer for much of my life and rarely lived in a city, I can imagine how much Jonah missed the open air, the feel and smell of his farm. Now that I am no longer farming but thankfully still living on a farm, I get my state of wholeness early every weekday morning with a 40 minute walk along a quiet gravel road. It goes through fields and patches of woods. Walking before dawn in winter, often in moonlight or watching the sunrise with time for prayer and contemplation close to nature starts my day off right.
Despite some difficult periods in a long life, I don't think I have failed to thrive spiritually. I believe surviving severe adversity has helped me thrive spiritually.
I would like to have "The Gadfly Suite Opus 97 Romance (excerpts) " by Shostakovich or failing that, the Hymn "How Great Thou Art"playing as I died.
After wiping my tears at the sacredness of this story, Christine, I reflected on my time working in a respiratory hospital where most of the patients were on ventilators. As the physical therapist, we would often try to find a way to get patients outside and call it "therapeutic" (because we had to justify billing our time to do that), and it was always so worth, both for the patients and us. Often some of the most anxious patients on ventilators could find their breath and a sense of peace when we took them outside. It was the most magical in a seemingly mundane experience for me every time.
I loved that you called it therapeutic, because it certainly is (even if we need to code it a certain way for billing!) Your line brought tears to my eyes - "the most magical in a seemingly mundane experience for me every time." We so underappreciate what the power of fresh air can do.
I had a whole paragraph in here about ventilators and forced air, and what that can do, but figured it was too "inside baseball" but you certainly understand the spiritual dimensions of that!
Forest and Water are what restore my soul (along with my dog at my side). I was led into this when a spiritual director from years ago shared with me the poem, "Lost" by David Wagoner -
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.
The poem led me to trees and to so much more. 10+ years later, I have come a long way on my still-ongoing healing journey. But trees and water....yes
Edward, I'm thrilled you found your way here! Thank you for the gift of this poem that was gifted to you. I may shamelessly steal it to use with my own spiritual directees.
Trees and water sound divine. I do want to know what type of dog?
I love this Christine, and I could not agree more. I have found especially the older I get the more I need that movement in and tie to nature; there's just something about it. Not too awful long ago I first came across Wendell Berry's poem The Peace of Wild Things and I'm finding myself reading over it again and again.
The movement piece adds a whole other layer to it, doesn't it?! I mean, I love sitting at the beach as much as the next person, but walking along the water takes it to a whole other level.
It has been ages since I saw that poem, thanks for the recommendation and I am eager to return to it again!
What a beautiful story. I found myself thinking about what nature does for us from birth to death, how nature can be so transformative for young kids, how it shapes us and brings us back to our Creator. Always love reading your work!
Thanks Emily. I hadn't thought about the impact on nature for young kids too - although I probably should have, given that I have two of them! When my older one was seeing his ADHD doc, he talked about time outside as his number one treatment recomendation!
Thanks for sharing. Your ICU story was another profound one. Thanks for your words :). Thanks for reading mine, and being someone who “gets” life in the hospital.
I totally agree that there is spiritual significance to Failure to Thrive, and yet, it almost feels taboo to talk about those spiritual struggles as a physician. For me, swimming is probably my favorite way to transcend. Some simple everyday ones are my "sit spot" and walking the dog around "the circle". Sitting by a fire sharing stories is another magical one, especially if the fire is near water. I'm looking forward to sleeping in our hammock in the next couple weeks too.
I was thinking of you when I wrote about "Failure to Thrive" and was going to ask you about it (or at least google the exact medical definition!) I agree with the taboo nature of talking about such things in healthcare.
And I didn't know you liked to swim as well! I find that so meditative and a future post might be about swimming as a spiritual practice! Make sure someone gets a picture of you sleeping in the hammock!
"A minute later, Sue came outside, wiping her eyes. I was at the door in a flash to hold her up. She whispered with a faint smile, “He’s breathing easy now.” Every time I read this I cry and I've read it multiple times. This is so sacred, Christine. Turning a grueling situation into forest bathing saved me near the end of my journey this past Saturday. Honestly, being present in nature, being aware of the oneness of it all is what draws me back time after time, mile after mile. Thanks again, friend.
Thanks Steve! I cried writing it, as they were such lovely people who I got to know well and still think about.
Your emrace of nature via trail running is a profound one. And it sounds like there will be a post forthcoming from you about your experience forest bathing!
Absolutely. Hopefully many posts. No matter what's going on with me, the forest, the mountains, they're always there and their invitation for me to take sanctuary with them is so reassuring to me.
Looking forward to reading those!
ah, ya made me cry. the sacred mystery of it all. thank you for sharing.
Yes, as chaplains we are good at making people cry, aren't we?! 😉
tears of joy and sorrow, we honor it all. 😌🧡
As a pastor, I deeply appreciate your work as a chaplain, being present at so many moments of suffering and death. Being on the Maine coast, my folks end up in three different hospitals, ranging from 30 minutes away to 90 minutes. I depend on chaplains to be there when I can't. Lovely story about the farmer.
How hard it must be to not be able to be there as much as you may want to due to distance. Chaplains certainly appreciate the congregational ministers too. The other day my intern went to a Cardiac Arrest and was so happy that the patient's pastor happened to be there so he realizeed he wasn't needed and could go back to the office and actually eat his lunch!
This is simply beautiful. Nature bathing brings me solace and spiritual grounding. Thank you for sharing.
We are lucky to be surrounded by it where we live. Sometime soon, you and I need to meet up for a walk in the woods together!
Yes we should!
Thank you for sharing this lovely story Christine.
Having been a farmer for much of my life and rarely lived in a city, I can imagine how much Jonah missed the open air, the feel and smell of his farm. Now that I am no longer farming but thankfully still living on a farm, I get my state of wholeness early every weekday morning with a 40 minute walk along a quiet gravel road. It goes through fields and patches of woods. Walking before dawn in winter, often in moonlight or watching the sunrise with time for prayer and contemplation close to nature starts my day off right.
Despite some difficult periods in a long life, I don't think I have failed to thrive spiritually. I believe surviving severe adversity has helped me thrive spiritually.
I would like to have "The Gadfly Suite Opus 97 Romance (excerpts) " by Shostakovich or failing that, the Hymn "How Great Thou Art"playing as I died.
Your morning practice sounds spacious and beautiful. Thank you for sharing it here.
In reading your bio last week, I'm struck by how you have maintained your thriving in the face of much suffering.
I love that hymn! And I don't know the Shostakovich piece but I am going to find it and listen to it right now!
Wow, this was powerful. Thank you for sharing 💛✨
Thanks Mackenzie. It looks like you write some powerful posts yourself, I'm looking forward to reading more of them.
That’s so nice of you to say Christine, thank you!
This is so beautiful Christine! As a child from a family of farmers it resonated deeply and that lovely ray of sunlight was definitely not eerie.
Oh I didn't know that you are from a family of farmers, that would make this precious story all the more personal then. What sort of farms?!
And I figured that my readers would likely have similar interpertations of that divine ray of sunlight!
After wiping my tears at the sacredness of this story, Christine, I reflected on my time working in a respiratory hospital where most of the patients were on ventilators. As the physical therapist, we would often try to find a way to get patients outside and call it "therapeutic" (because we had to justify billing our time to do that), and it was always so worth, both for the patients and us. Often some of the most anxious patients on ventilators could find their breath and a sense of peace when we took them outside. It was the most magical in a seemingly mundane experience for me every time.
I loved that you called it therapeutic, because it certainly is (even if we need to code it a certain way for billing!) Your line brought tears to my eyes - "the most magical in a seemingly mundane experience for me every time." We so underappreciate what the power of fresh air can do.
I had a whole paragraph in here about ventilators and forced air, and what that can do, but figured it was too "inside baseball" but you certainly understand the spiritual dimensions of that!
Forest and Water are what restore my soul (along with my dog at my side). I was led into this when a spiritual director from years ago shared with me the poem, "Lost" by David Wagoner -
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.
The poem led me to trees and to so much more. 10+ years later, I have come a long way on my still-ongoing healing journey. But trees and water....yes
Edward, I'm thrilled you found your way here! Thank you for the gift of this poem that was gifted to you. I may shamelessly steal it to use with my own spiritual directees.
Trees and water sound divine. I do want to know what type of dog?
Shamelessly steal it but it definitely is not mine. :)
Scout is a 7 yr old blue tick hound / beagle mix.
What a great dog name! My kids are angling for a dog (also goats! 😱) so I've been reading more about different dog breeds.
I love this Christine, and I could not agree more. I have found especially the older I get the more I need that movement in and tie to nature; there's just something about it. Not too awful long ago I first came across Wendell Berry's poem The Peace of Wild Things and I'm finding myself reading over it again and again.
The movement piece adds a whole other layer to it, doesn't it?! I mean, I love sitting at the beach as much as the next person, but walking along the water takes it to a whole other level.
It has been ages since I saw that poem, thanks for the recommendation and I am eager to return to it again!
What a beautiful story. I found myself thinking about what nature does for us from birth to death, how nature can be so transformative for young kids, how it shapes us and brings us back to our Creator. Always love reading your work!
Thanks Emily. I hadn't thought about the impact on nature for young kids too - although I probably should have, given that I have two of them! When my older one was seeing his ADHD doc, he talked about time outside as his number one treatment recomendation!
Oh your story makes me feel so emotional. Chaplaincy is such good work, such holy work; reading to him about farm mechanics!
“ …. we tend to be more present and tranquil when we are removed from the comfort of our typical physical surroundings.”
I never quite thought about this, and …of course it’s true!
And thank you for the Forest Bathing ritual/liturgy. I will keep that one!!
Thanks Karla, it was a tough story to be sure, one that I remember vividly from many years ago.
I keep meaning to go on a guided Forest Bathing walk with some of the Oasis folks, maybe sometime in the near future!
Thanks for sharing. Your ICU story was another profound one. Thanks for your words :). Thanks for reading mine, and being someone who “gets” life in the hospital.
I figured you could relate to some of these hospital stories all too well!
I totally agree that there is spiritual significance to Failure to Thrive, and yet, it almost feels taboo to talk about those spiritual struggles as a physician. For me, swimming is probably my favorite way to transcend. Some simple everyday ones are my "sit spot" and walking the dog around "the circle". Sitting by a fire sharing stories is another magical one, especially if the fire is near water. I'm looking forward to sleeping in our hammock in the next couple weeks too.
I was thinking of you when I wrote about "Failure to Thrive" and was going to ask you about it (or at least google the exact medical definition!) I agree with the taboo nature of talking about such things in healthcare.
And I didn't know you liked to swim as well! I find that so meditative and a future post might be about swimming as a spiritual practice! Make sure someone gets a picture of you sleeping in the hammock!