Mindfulness in Nature Articles

A quiet Forest Therapy reflection on wind, attention, rest, and the small moments in nature that help the mind and body soften. This story explores how a simple breeze on a warm afternoon became an invitation into mindfulness, restoration, and deeper relationship with the living world.

A recent study from Finding Nature reveals something we might already sense: humanity has been steadily drifting away from the natural world for over two centuries. Using a fascinating model, researchers tracked the decline of nature-related words in books — words like river , blossom , moss . They found a drop of nearly 60%, suggesting not just a loss of vocabulary, but a loss of relationship.

I did a year of Jungian dream work and learned how to lean into my dreams for guidance. That practice taught me that our unconscious has so much to share if we pause long enough to listen. Recently, I read Rubin Naiman’s book Healing Night and found myself pondering the benefits of letting the left brain rest — giving our thinking mind space to breathe.

Have you ever noticed how a simple sandwich, a handful of chips, or a piece of fruit seems to taste extraordinary when you’re sitting on a beach towel, toes buried in warm sand, and the rhythmic sound of waves in the background?

Our forest therapy group was immersed in Redwood Memorial Grove , a pocket of towering giants hidden in the heart of the city. Its calming energy wraps around you the moment you arrive.

In a world that moves too fast, where overstimulation is the norm and our nervous systems are constantly “on,” truly relaxing has become a skill—and, in many cases, a struggle. I see this in the people I guide through forest therapy walks. I feel it in myself.

Being in nature, I have found a beautiful, awe-inspiring sanctuary to sit with my own loneliness-melancholy—a deep, layered feeling that I’ve come to call solisorrow . For much of my life, I ran from the discomfort of this feeling, but in nature, I’ve come to experience the gift of being alone, allowing myself to feel the full depth of solisorrow and hear its quiet messages. Surrounded by the wisdom of the natural world, I can sit with this feeling—this blend of solitude and sorrow—in a way that feels grounding, expansive, and healing.

This morning I went over to Mavericks in Half Moon Bay to practice mindfulness in nature AKA forest bathing. The ocean is a perfect place