By Fru Molnar
The Garrison Institute faces a beautiful meadow where a large spruce tree resides. It’s about six stories tall and two wingspans in circumference, and it stands apart from the other trees in the nearby forest trails.
This is where I often gather groups of forest bathers to begin our journey into embodied presence with the more-than-human-world. I’ve had a personal encounter with this tree that I can only describe as mystical, and beyond this, our language is insufficient.
An ancient camphor tree, over 600 years old with a height of 25 meters and a circumference of 8 meters, resides within the pebbled courtyard of what is now the Ueno Toshogu Shrine in Tokyo. It, too, stands apart from the other trees in Ueno Park, both in distance and in sacredness, for it wears a sacred straw rope (called a shimenawa). This rope signifies that the tree houses kami (divine spirits in the Japanese Shinto religion), and it is a physical marker of the tree’s unmistakable ethereal aura.
If there was a way for me to designate the spruce at Garrison as a sacred tree, in order to invite other humans to take more time, care, and attention when sharing in its presence, it might look something like the tradition of adorning sacred rocks and trees in shimenawa.
I’m still wondering about a way to playfully interpret this Shinto tradition while remaining respectful to the culture. This is one of the questions we’ll be discussing in the upcoming virtual forum The Forest as Shrine on October 7, during which I’ll be speaking with Shinto priest and ANFT Certified Forest Therapy Guide Rev. Ann Evans.
We’ll be exploring the many ways that Shinto and other nature-connection practices such as shinrin-yoku (forest bathing) encourage a sense of belonging through relating and direct experience.
Shinto teaches us that humans are innately bright and pure; we are descendants of the kami—the spiritual beings of the universe. Through our life actions and experiences, this luster can be lessened. Through Shinto practice and rituals, we purify ourselves and our environment to restore our original quality of brightness. In this way, we begin to see clearly, open our hearts, and foster a truly meaningful life.
– Rev. Ann Evans, High Priest of Shin Mei Spiritual Centre
Shinrin-yoku, which is a Japanese term that literally translates to “forest bathing,” is the practice of immersing ourselves in the atmosphere of the forest, relating to nature through sensory invitations, and allowing ourselves to be fully present with the beings that draw our attention to them, and give their attention to us.
Originally taking shape in the 1980s, shinrin-yoku was developed as a public health response to the stresses of rapid modernization, to test theories about why human bodies display more signs of good health when we spend more time (specifically structured, slow, mindful time) outdoors among the trees.
A key scientific discovery showed trees, especially the coniferous group, release phytoncides (airborne compounds that shield them from diseases). When we breathe these compounds in, our bodies produce more natural killer cells, the powerhouse cells of the immune system.
Additionally, on an individual health level, science research has shown that time among trees is associated with activation of the parasympathetic nervous system, lower blood pressure, cortisol, adrenaline, improvements in quality of sleep, access to certain types of creativity and focus, improved mood and cognition, and pain relief.
Expanding beyond the individual and looking at the impacts of Earth awareness practices on a broader scale, researchers who study “nature connectedness,” our felt sense of belonging to the living world, have found that it impacts the way we connect with all beings. A 2019 review found that people who feel connected to nature are notably more likely to act on its behalf. And experimental studies corroborate that deepening connection can itself move us toward giving care.
Only when we’ve truly fallen back in love with the Earth will our actions spring from reverence and the insight of our interconnectedness. […] Cherishing our precious Earth–falling in love with the Earth–is not an obligation. It is a matter of personal and collective happiness and survival.
– Thích Nhất Hạnh’s statement on climate change for the United Nations, 2015
The spruce at the Institute doesn’t wear a rope around its trunk as a special designation of spiritual significance, but what would it be like to imagine it does? That, perhaps, every living being does?
The shimenawa is a sacred way of calling attention to a specific way of sensing. It’s an invitation to slow down, to notice, and to meet another being as kin, with curiosity and wonder. This way of sensing is available to any of us, in any forest, with any tree. We can fall back in love with the Earth over and over again, one tree at a time.
Fru Molnar will be in conversation with Rev. Ann Evans, Guji (High Priest) of the Shin Mei Spiritual Centre and ANFT Certified Forest Therapy Guide, for The Forest as Shrine on Wednesday, October 7, from 6 to 7pm ET via Zoom.
