2017 should have been an amazing year. After a variety of exciting professional experiences, I set a goal to go back to school. I was achieving that goal, graduating from college and on the honor roll. But it turned out to be a terrible year. I was assaulted a few weeks before my final semester. On the surface, it didn’t seem like a big deal (to me). I had been hurt before, and my motto was, “Just buck up babe.” Because that had been my experience. I started taking care of myself at 6 years old. I have a strong will. I am a fearless woman, but I have never been able to obtain for myself what I have provided for others; nurturing love and protection. Things got dark. The level of stress resulting from the attack took its toll. And it wasn’t even that particular experience, but that event surfaced for me other abuses I had previously had to endure that I avoided acknowledging for many years. I turned into girl who couldn’t leave her apartment. I didn’t feel safe. I wouldn’t sleep for days. I was plagued with headaches, vomiting, infections, cold sores, while psoriasis took over my scalp, back, and arms. I even went a few days without food multiple times. I didn’t tell anyone for a while. My therapist, my boyfriend, and two others were it. I was determined to keep being “perfect.”  I didn’t want the label of a victim and the inevitable badge of shame that comes with it. I wanted to be normal and to be treated normally. I didn’t want the unbearable awkward moments of sharing and watching someone stumble for words. There are few people in this world who can truly empathize with what I have experienced. So most of the time I avoided sharing. How I started healing My therapist, Tami, suggested that I go on a camping trip in West Texas surrounded by bison and canyons. And she wanted me to talk to a tree. I asked her if she was on drugs. She laughed, said no and preceded to tell me about all the benefits and blah blah blah. Resolved, I said I would do the trip, but I wasn’t going to do tree talking. I felt this was a ridiculous request at the time and completely stupid. Fueling my refusal to talk to a tree was the fear of allowing myself to experience imagination. Something I felt I lost a long time ago. Finding my tree There was a hike Tami made me lead from our campsite. I found a spot in an empty river bed to take a break. She read a poem to me while we soaked up warmth from the sunbaked rocks. After that, she sent me off alone. She said go find your tree. As I was packing up my gear, I told her no. Tami responded, “You’ll find one.” I walked off and a few 100 feet away I yelled, “I’m not talking to any fucking trees!” I looked back with a half-smile and she watched me walk off. I walked along the riverbed looking at trees wondering how one talks to a tree. Like how would I know which of these is my tree? And finally, it happened. I was looking up the side of a steep cactus covered incline when I saw her, my tree. I remember saying, “Oh, you’re pretty.” It was nearly impossible to get to her, but I eventually did and sat down next to my tree.   It was awkward. I looked over the horizon as I was sulking with the assignment. I told the tree, “Tami said I had to talk to you, and I think this is stupid.” My tree and I chatted for a while, and the moments that followed were transformational. I had unlocked the sway of Forest Bathing. What is Forest Bathing? Well, it’s not a spa treatment and it also doesn’t require water or suds. The practice originated in Japan in the 1980s. There it is called shinrin-yoku and translates to you guessed it…Forest Bathing! Forest bathing is simply being in nature. This practice evolved as a Japanese work culture led to an abundance of stress and health issues from being overworked and constantly indoors. What I love about this practice is the simplicity of it, walking amongst nature allowing my body and mind to wander. The only thing this practice requires is time and maybe a small commute to a public garden or park (at minimum). The only intention you set is to be in nature; the rest of it is letting yourself follow your senses. Your practice of Forest Bathing should be a reflection of you. How I reap the benefits of Forest Bathing may not be the way you do. I particularly have an affinity for our beautiful hill country here in Texas, where you may prefer a lush manicured garden or forest. In my practice, I roam with the intention of seeing the moment as a child would. Curiosity takes over, I’ll follow a butterfly, talk to a turtle, birds, trees. There is a rhythm, and you will develop yours. If my way doesn’t resonate with you there are other ways you can enjoy your practice in nature:     Write in a journal     Do something artistic like sketch the scene in front of you     Practice meditation or yoga     Do some breathing exercises     Even take a nice nap How forest bathing helped me At first, I didn’t know if it was working. I rambled aimlessly, but what stood out was my realization that I’m always rushing to get somewhere, rushing to please someone, rushing to be happy, rushing to accomplish something. In talking to my tree, I finally slowed down. I started reflecting on the dynamic I needed in relationships, and I realized that I needed to become my own person. I needed to stop being the chameleon that transformed into what my partner, agents, or employers