Forest Therapy

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Forest Therapy Page 9

by Sarah Ivens


  Excella, 41

  “As much as I love to lie around the beach getting a tan, or rather, I used to be able to do this before I had kids, there is something about the seaside in the winter. The town itself may be dull, grey and a little bit sad, but to just sit there on the shore, bundled up against the freezing cold watching the sheer majesty and ferociousness of the sea is oddly comforting. I can sit for hours (as long as I have a hot chocolate to keep my hands warm!), just watching the waves and the horizon.”

  Winter flowers, greenery and berries

  These blooms, leaves and berries are abundant at this time of year and symbolic of the season, so treat your home—and yourself—to a posy if you can this winter:

  Amaryllis

  Camellia

  Holly

  Hyacinth

  Ivy

  Mistletoe

  Pine and pine cones

  Snowberries

  Snowdrops

  Winter-flowering iris

  New Year’s Resolutions

  I prefer setting myself targets in spring, when I seem to shake off the cold and get a new lease on life, or in autumn, when the back-to-school vibe makes me sit down and study what I am doing with my life and how I can improve it. But if you are a traditionalist, there is only one time to look back with self-awareness, and then look forward to a better you—and that is January 1. For many of us, New Year’s resolutions are key to setting an agenda for our health and mental well-being that we can keep over the following twelve months.

  Why? Because there is no neater, clearer date to have a fresh start than on the first day of a crisp new calendar, when the overindulgences have been so much that you actually yearn for a time of simple food, no booze and some exercise. You want to take the high jinks down a notch or two and find some peace in nature.

  New Year’s Day is the perfectly positioned precipice to look back on what you didn’t like about last year, to think about what made you feel bad and what made you feel good, then jump off into refreshingly clean ideas and notions. And it feels like the world is cheering you on. There is a mass push to take control and improve one’s health and well-being on this day, and the positive encouragement is invaluable. We’re all in this together, the world is singing to you.

  New year, new you—it sounds simple, right? But don’t be too harsh on yourself if “Auld Lang Syne” is still ringing in your ears when you mess one of your resolutions up. It doesn’t matter. They are a self-contract, an agreement with yourself. Plan a reset date. The first of February is just as good as the first of January in my book. The worst thing you can do is feel disheartened and throw away all your life-enhancing dreams, ideals and plans because you feel beaten. And don’t be too self-critical if you’re not noticing changes fast enough. Any good change is worth doing, however insignificant it might feel at first. Good luck!

  Catherine, 34

  “One cold, winter’s day when my daughters were toddlers, we needed to get out of the house. We braved a deserted park, wrapped up against the dropping temperatures in appropriate weatherproof gear, the girls’ moods improving with every gulp of brisk air. That was until they got stuck in a patch of gloopy mud, fell over in it, and ended up getting covered from head to toe. I had to strip my two squidgy girls down to their diapers, then gave one my sweater and the other my coat, before racing home. What could be considered a nightmare is now one of my favorite memories.”

  MINDFULNESS MINUTE

  Sit out in nature if you can, or find a quiet, calm place indoors. Close your eyes and concentrate on your breathing. After a few deep, careful breaths, think of a Christmas tree—the one you have up now, or the perfect one you saw in a local store’s window, or the one your parents used to have in your childhood home. Allow your mind to be dazzled by the tinsel and sparkling lights. Imagine you are inspecting the tree closely—the pine needles, your reflection in the baubles, the ornaments that warm your heart. Allow the excitement and sparkle of the season to wash over your entire body and fizz into your brain. In your mind’s eye, you begin to glitter and glow with life and joy. This is how your loved ones see you. You are this beautiful. This is why those who love you smile when they see you or hear from you. Remember that.

  7

  Parenting in Plein Air

  Let nature be your teacher.

  She has a world of ready wealth, our minds and hearts to bless—

  Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health, truth breathed by cheerfulness.

  William Wordsworth

  I could never have imagined, six years ago, before I was a mother, how crucial the philosophy of parenting in plein air was going to be to me. Yet very quickly, as my son’s toddlerdom began, I realized that the current “indoor childhood” way of doing things would be toxic to me as much as to my son, William. Adding my daughter, Matilda, to the mix two years after my son’s birth furthered this belief. Inside our house, every tantrum was amplified, every mood shift heightened, every stern word harsher—and the feeling of entrapment that so many mothers (and fathers) feel when suddenly thrust into the 24/7 life of caring for little people, was suffocating. Family life within four walls can feel claustrophobic. So, if this is you, you know what I’m going to tell you to do, right? Yup. You need to al fresco your family ASAP.

  Mother Nature, the nurturer

  Desperate to become a mother for two years, and suffering two miscarriages before William came along, I was shocked at the negative mental effect becoming a parent had on me. The tiredness was expected, but the feelings of hopelessness combined with an overwhelming sense that I’d somehow lost my identity really took me by surprise. I wasn’t suffering from post-natal depression, I was one of the lucky ones, but I was exhausted, sore and irritable.

  Good news: nature can help with baby blues

  Take care of your body and brain: take a long walk with baby in a stroller; avoid alcohol and choose refreshing teas; sleep when the baby is sleeping; pick up healthy food at the supermarket; get dressed and washed every day (no living in your PJs); and be kind to yourself. Walk to the nearest shop for a newspaper every morning, meet friends for a walk around the park rather than in a café, or even take baby around the yard and tell it the names of the flowers and insects. Marvel in what your body has just done and don’t get caught up with dishes, housework or losing weight. Enjoy your moment, mama.

  Advice from mama bear…

  … and an outdoorsy kvinne (woman) from Norway:

  “If you don’t do anything else, just do this one thing, please for me,” my very sensible, kind-hearted mother said to me soon after William’s birth. “Treat yourself to a shower or bath every day and get outside. Walk! Take in some sights, some scents and some fresh air. Get out of the house!” We were living in Louisville, Kentucky, at the time, a state famous for its meandering, hilly horse farms and fields filled with smoky-scented tobacco sheds. Spurred on by my mum’s advice, I got up and out, like a grizzly bear, shaking off months of sleeping in a dark cave, and started to remember that there was life beyond sore boobs, scary diapers and bouts of weeping.

  My morning constitutional—a slow push of the stroller under a canopy of magnolia blossoms to the grounds of a quaint antebellum mansion and back—brought me back to life. To feel the sun on my face and a breeze at my back was restorative. And William’s cries didn’t rattle my nerves so much when matched by birdsong.

  At this time, I was also lucky enough to be befriended by Solveig, a Norwegian in Kentucky (yes, that happens), who joined me for daily nature experiences, filling me in on her nation’s philosophy of living in fresh air, persuading me that we could get our coffees to go and march up and down our tree-lined high street instead of sitting on our bottoms. As we walked, she told me that Norwegian child-rearing involved giving offspring every chance to find their own feet and freedom outdoors, in all four seasons, free of over-regulated agendas and helicopter parenting.

  Safety, of course, came first, but friluftsliv parenting meant allowing your children to g
et dirty, get a bit chilly and do things that slightly scare you and the child, such as climbing a tree and picking up bugs. The American philosophy I was exposed to was very much about momma and baby hiding inside for the first six weeks, and continuing that overly protective way of parenting, pushing academics and schedules over fun and freedom, fearful of germs or judgement. I was so lucky to have a sensible English mum and a Norwegian friluftsliver to help me decide what kind of mother I wanted to be from the very beginning.

  By the time my second child, Matilda, arrived, I was living in Los Angeles and was a certified life coach. I remember working with a young mother who was struggling with a husband who spent all his time in the office and two young children who didn’t sleep. I swear that what helped her as much—or more, I hate to admit—as my relationship with her as a sounding board and champion was the fact that I insisted our sessions took place while we walked, pushing the children, along the beach. Yes, I had a program for her to follow, and ideas and advice to offer about handling her circumstances, but I can honestly say that I don’t believe my training was a patch on the restorative power of the Pacific Ocean.

  Child’s play

  Reconnecting with nature was a tonic for me as a new parent, and we shouldn’t underestimate the impact it can have on the youngest, sweetest souls either. The magic of seeing a two-year-old have a conversation with an earwig is not to be underestimated. We can reverse the current trend for the fake and superficial, the immediate and the plastic. We have the power, fellow parents, godparents, grandparents, school teachers! We can get our kids outside, connected to the earth and loving nature again. We can encourage them to embrace freedom, fresh air and dirt. And remember: we need to lead by example. The more we show the children we care about how keeping fit and being outdoors is fun—rather than telling them—the more they will believe us.

  How to: create a scavenger hunt for your kids

  First choose a theme, determined by the season and the location. List items that require kids to use multiple senses: to look, to feel, to smell. Give a mix of easy-to-find and more challenging items, depending on the ages of the children. Don’t overwhelm them—keep the list to under ten things, and don’t forget to give them a pen and paper to make notes. Set a time limit, and they’re off! Tell them not to remove anything, just spot it and tick if off their list. Have a winner if you want to, but perhaps the whole family could be rewarded for discovering things together—sharing a delicious snack as a prize.

  Why don’t you revisit your own childhood—and the previous generations’—for inspiration? Building secret dens away from annoying parents’ eyes, kicking the curb planning your future until dusk or plucking berries and preparing a feast for imaginary friends. These things made me—and my mother, and my grandmother. They made my buddies. I gained so many memories doing this stuff. I can still hear the burbling trickle of the local stream. I can still smell the scent of my rose-petal-coated fingertips as I drift off to sleep on summer evenings. Nature was my ally, the backdrop to my adventures.

  Today, as a forty-one-year-old, I still treasure the forest path behind my parents’ house and take it every time I visit them, remembering the exact spot Andrea and I got ambushed by a random cow, where James and I played James Bond, or where I nearly wet myself laughing when a caterpillar fell off an oak tree and landed on a petrified Donna’s head. It would break my heart if, reminiscing on their youth in the golden years of tomorrow, all my children would feel nostalgic for was the cold metal of an iPad or the smell of furniture polish. In fact, the only part of nature I don’t want them to experience is head lice. We did that once, all three of us plagued by those resilient little bugs for days, and I don’t think I’ll ever feel itch-free again. But, nits aside, there is no part of nature I don’t want my children to explore or be enveloped in.

  This concept of “indoor childhood” that is generally accepted as standard these days has to be stopped. What is it? It is the term given to a sad fact of modern life: that childhood is less and less spent outdoors. Too many—the majority—of children in the US and UK are no longer being immersed in the creative, explorative world of their natural environment, a place where social skills are polished, and energy and emotions are released in a healthy way. Today, statistics show, children are inside playing alone or enduring a very structured indoor post-school routine that allows little, or in worst-case scenarios, no free play. Your mini-me may be able to play the violin and speak Mandarin, but he could be miserable. Young children need to move.

  Let me check my schedule

  When I was a kid, my neighbors and I would simply knock on a friend’s front door and ask if they wanted to come out and play. Now, we live in the over-organized and constructed world of play dates. Fun needs to be booked weeks in advance. There’s a lack of spontaneity and adaptability, and designated worthy (and often very expensive) pursuits are put first. And kids are frustrated. I noticed recently how my daughter was dragging to ballet class—something she once loved had become a chore. “I just want to play with baby Kate next door!” she said forlornly, as after an already action-packed day of Montessori school, I wriggled her into a leotard and drove her twenty minutes to class. I had to think: was the ballet obsession hers or mine?

  As a mother, getting outdoors into the fresh air and slowing down in nature has become an even hardier, perennial part of my life than ever before. In fact, it’s become more than a practice, it’s become a central core of my parenting philosophy. A recent British survey of 1,200 parents of five- to twelve-year-olds found that the children were spending twice as much time on screens inside as they do playing outside, a statistic—and problem—echoed in the US. And according to a report by the Alliance for Childhood, American children of today spend 50 percent less time in unstructured activities than children did in the 1970s. Parents dictate their schedules, and this barrage of classes and activities (often chosen around a busy parent’s schedule rather than the child’s interest) mostly take place inside. Increasingly, even young children have little unstructured play time and little outdoor time, neither of which, the Alliance for Childhood believes, foster creativity or happiness.

  By allowing this fashion for indoor childhood to continue, we parents are making a rod for our own backs. We’re letting a tiger mom obsession with learning and winning get in the way of what our child really needs. I remember at my son’s first day of school meeting other parents who were asking about reading levels and math tests. I asked how long lunch and playtime was. “My son is like a dog. He needs to be let out for walks and play regularly,” I joked, from a miniature chair, knees up round my earlobes. My question was greeted with a mixture of shock and disdain, but afterwards, a few mothers came up to me and said “That’s my boy too! He needs freedom and exercise.” Admitting this shouldn’t be a dirty secret. It’s obvious, surely! But in these competitive days of academic exams, our children are missing out on the basics. We’re so scared about societal expectations and safety that we’re clipping our baby birds’ wings before they’ve even learnt to fly. We need to let them soar, people, soar! We don’t want trophy children, like trophy wives but in miniature: mute creatures who look perfect but are miserable. We want real-life thinking, funny, dirty, brave, quirky, streetwise children, who get to develop their interests and talents at their own rate. This will fill them with a passion that they will be able to maintain throughout their life, rather than drain them before they’ve even really begun.

  Being media savvy

  Screen time has its place—I’d never get a bath or be able to make dinner if I didn’t allow my two time with Peppa Pig or Minecraft—but balance and restrictions are key. In a recent study, the American Association of Pediatrics (AAP) recommended that parents prioritize creative, unplugged playtime for infants and toddlers. For school-aged children and adolescents, the idea is to balance media use with other healthy behaviors. The study found that problems happen if media use displaces physical activity, hands-on exploration and face-t
o-face social interaction in the real world, which is critical to learning. Too much screen time can also harm the amount and quality of sleep. The AAP suggests that two- to five-year-olds are restricted to one hour of media per day, while six-year-olds and older can have longer if it does not interfere with adequate sleep, physical activity and other behaviors essential to health. Bedrooms should be media-free for all ages.

  How do you ignore the moaning?

  Children moan and whine a lot. It’s one of their less attractive qualities. They also throw tantrums, which is even worse, because they’re embarrassing too. I don’t know whether it’s because they are tired and feeling lazy, or because they have a shocking Peppa Pig addiction fed by the television screen, but sometimes my children refuse to budge outside, cementing their bottoms to the sofa. Trying to get them out into sunlight is sometimes painful. You know what I mean, right? If you don’t want to go the earplug route, I suggest bribing them with fun outdoor gadgets like a compass or binoculars, feeding their sugar cravings with the promise of s’mores—a toasted marshmallow and chocolate sandwich which is the perfect outdoor eating treat—after play time or, quite simply, tickling them out the door. Yes, a visit from the Tickle Monster never fails to get a child (a) moving; and (b) smiling. He even works on teens.

 

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