Sunday, 7 July 2019

Can’t see the wood for the trees; being mindful of forest bathing


Walking along the promenade one day last week, I looked at the sea and thought how good it would be to go down the steps and jump in for a swim. Unusually the sea was calm, the water blue, and it looked so inviting. As regular readers of this blog will know, that would never happen due to my fear of being in or on water! However, two things I have never been afraid of are the dark and walking alone in isolated places. I used to do a lot of walking in the Lake District and often for much of the walk wouldn’t see another soul. When I lived in Wales, I loved walking in the Forestry Commission plantations, which at times could be dark and lonely places. However, I liked the quietness, and the unexpected glimpse of a deer, or bird. Occasionally I would take on extra work, hauling fertiliser up steep forest tracks or bringing down Christmas trees ready for the Christmas sales. When I had the House in Scotland, I lived within walking distance of the Dalbeattie Forest. This is over 2,600 acres in size, and it’s amazingly easy to get lost in it; something I have done a couple of times!

Where we live now, the forests are less grand. There is the Forest of Bowland, which touches my new home town, but isn’t actually a forest at all, although it is still worth a visit. On the next beach to my home beach, at Cleveleys, is a petrified forest. This phenomenon is only visible at low tides, and even then not always, depending on the movement of the sand. No one really knows what caused the loss of this forest, it might have been an early example of the erosion of coastal land due to rising sea levels. The stumps of the forest trees are still there, but everything else has gone. 

There is, however, a budding forest right on my doorstep (just 4,503 steps away). Possibly, at this stage, it would be better described as woodland or a forest-in-making. This is the Fylde Memorial Arboretum and Community Woodland. At just under five acres, it’s considerably smaller than the Dalbeattie forest! It is a site of remembrance at Bispham (which is my new home town and is just up the coast from Blackpool), and the only one of its kind outside the National Memorial Arboretum, in Alrewas, Staffordshire. The aim of the woodland is to provide a place of peace and beauty in which people can remember those who made the ultimate sacrifice on behalf of the rest of us. In the Community Woodland area of the arboretum, it is also possible for anyone in the local community to commemorate a loved one by arranging to have a plaque set against a tree.  

Overall, it is home to some 2,500 trees of differing species and made up of a series of interconnecting paths that lead you to a number of different places for reflection. There is the Services Glade, which permanently flies the Union Flag alongside its simple black granite inscribed slab. This leads to the Millennium Grove, which is devoted to the memory of those local service people who were killed while on active service during this millennium. There is a smaller area, planted with a half circle of Rowan trees which is dedicate to the memory of Major Jim Houldsworth Bower, an absolute champion of the ex-service community. Nationally, this is a big community (in 2016 it was a community of 2.5 million veterans). 

Interestingly I, like many others I guess, assumed that ex-service personal would experience many mental health problems – but this is not the case. Studies show that the rates of mental health problems in ex-service personnel is actually 1 in 5 compared to 1 in 4 in the general population. The rates of post-traumatic stress disorder (PSTD) are also much lower than I expected – between 4% to 6% of all personnel depending on whether they were combat troops or not. 

Now you might have got thus far reading this blog and might be thinking what has any of this got to do with the price of eggs? Well I was intrigued last week to hear of the recent heated debate that had occurred on the Good Morning Britain TV programme over ‘forest bathing’. Forest bathing has its origins in the traditional health and wellbeing culture of Japan. There it is called ‘shinrin-yoku’ which means immersing yourself in nature in order to improve your wellbeing. It is the practice of mindfully taking in the sights, sounds and smells of nature without distraction. In June, the Woodlands Trust (part sponsors of my new ‘forest’) suggested that ‘forest bathing’, as a treatment should be prescribed on the NHS. Apparently, there is a growing industry around folk (not sure what else to call them) who charge up to £25 for a two-hour ‘forest bathing’ session. However, I’m reliably informed that the NHS has no plans to introduce ‘forest bathing’ as part of its ‘social prescribing’ schemes.

I’m not sure that anyone should be charging for such an activity. I have a number of ‘places’ that I regularly use for my mindfulness sessions. One is an ancient bench atop of the cliffs on my beach walk, and another is a hidden glade in a beautiful little local park called the ‘Rock Gardens’, where the sound of running water drowns out the rest of the world. Mindfulness is an easy practice to acquire (see here) and if finding a spot in a forest near you provides the opportunity then why not give it a go? 

If this is the case, you might want to hurry up. Last week the BBC reported that a chunk of the Amazon rainforest the size of a football pitch is being lost every single minute. That’s right, every single minute! One might almost change John Heywood’s famous phrase (1546) to: its increasingly difficult to see the trees for the wood 

No comments:

Post a Comment