The gift of time

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On one of our first forest therapy walks during the week-long training, we were asked to set an intention for our time in the woods. Without really thinking about it, the word that came out of my mouth was “clarity.”

Toward the end of our walk, we were given this invitation:

The forest has so much to offer you. If you wish, ask the forest for a gift. When you feel complete, find a way to express your gratitude.

As I sat against a tree, what rose up in me was my concern over time. “There’s never enough of time. Time is running out. How can I get more time?” are some of the fears my lizard brain plays on repeat. What specifically welled up in me was my fear about time where my husband Todd is concerned. We got married three years ago, in our late 40s/early 50s, and we won’t have as much time together as if we’d met years earlier. We’re building a life together in mid-life, each with a lifetime’s worth of individual experiences we didn’t share together. 

The message that came to me almost immediately as I sat in the woods was “There is always enough time. Be grateful for the time you have now and don’t waste it worrying about time.” 

At first I questioned whether the message that came to me was genuine because it came so quickly and easily. It can’t be that easy, I thought. And that’s when the aha revealed itself to me. Yes, it can be that easy but you have to let it be easy. I only need to trust the message I was given that there is always enough time. 

Here’s the thing: You need to be present in this moment for it to be easy. The reason it feels like time is always eluding us is because we are so rarely in it—in this present moment, experiencing the time we are in. We ruminate about the past. We worry about and project outcomes for the future. We’re almost always anywhere but right here, right now. 

That was the gift I both received from and reciprocated to the forest … time. The forest gave me the time I needed to connect with a higher knowing, and I gave the forest my undivided time and attention, being fully present to those moments. It was that easy. The gift of that time was the clarity I had requested. 

One could argue that that was what I was there to do during our training week—spend time in and with the forest. That I had nothing but time. However, even when we have given ourselves the luxury of time (like a much-needed vacation) or it’s been forced upon us (like an illness or recovery), how often do we find ourselves present in those moments? My hunch is not often. 

Regardless of where you are or what you’re doing, here are a couple strategies for giving yourself the gift of time and being in the present moment.

Feel your feet. You can do this whether you’re sitting or standing. Shuffle your feet on the floor or wiggle your toes. If you’re not in a place or situation where feeling into your feet is possible, rub your hands on your legs or even rub your hands together. 

Focus on your senses. This tip was given to me years ago by a therapist during a time of great anxiety after my mom had had a stroke and my dad had passed away—all in 10 months’ time. Focusing on my senses helped pull my mind away from worry and bring me back to what was present. From where you are, notice and name three things you can hear and then three things you can feel, three things you can taste, three things you can smell, and finally three things you can see. You don’t have to go through all five senses. If after, say, noticing and naming three things you can smell you feel present, then stop. Mission accomplished. 

Return to the breath. There’s a reason why in meditation they tell you to return to the breath when your mind drifts off to other thoughts. Noticing our breath always brings our attention back to the present moment. The beauty of this exercise is you can do it anywhere—in the car, in a meeting, or in a confessional. 

What you may have noticed about all of these strategies is that they involve your body. Coming back to your body is one of the best ways to get out of the swirling vortex of thoughts in your head and return to the moment you are in. And when you’re in the moment, all you have is time. 

Siobhan Nash

Words are at the heart of who I am and what I do as a writer, editor, and midlife mentor. I think the greatest gift of writing is that it creates the space we need to know ourselves better. When we know ourselves better, we can move toward what we want and a life that reflects our true self.

https://www.siobhannash.com
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