In The Forest

“How is Carl Jung going?” Nate asks me. We’re on our weekly hike in the redwoods, and I’ve spend most of the last two days buried in Julian’s books. Currently I’m reading Jung’s book on alchemy. It’s a pretty strange read, full of long-winded analyses of subconscious imagery. Not at all like anything else I’ve ever read. “I kind of like it”, I tell Nate. It’s sweet of him to ask. I’ve been trying to tell Sarah about the book, but she’s brushed me off a few times. I’m coming to think that she doesn’t want to talk about it. I think, maybe, she thinks Jung is a quack. Lots of psychologists do. I felt bad, at first, about her reaction, but now I kind of think she’s just trying to not step on my excitement. I have another training session with Julian tomorrow and part of me is counting the hours. We’re almost down to eighteen now.

“What do you like about it?” Nate follows up. I snap back to the current moment, wondering how much detail to give him. “His way of seeing things.” I say. “Like he is so, so, so serious about analyzing the subconscious. I’ve never met anyone else who takes other people’s minds half as seriously. Even when we did dream analysis during training it always felt like there was a bit of a sense of irrelevance. A little tinge of ‘who cares about dreams, they’re not really all that real’.” Nate nods. “Yeah”, he says. “A little bit like they’re a byproduct of the brain, and not much else.” I nod. “I’ve read Jung’s autobiography”, Nate continues. “He seems really interesting.” I’m a little surprised to hear him say that. Out of all my friends, Nate seems the most serious about science, and Carl Jung isn’t all that beloved in the scientific community. I sometimes think that psychology, as a field, struggles so much with being taken seriously as a science that we tend to throw out the baby with the bathwater. The baby, in this case, being Carl Jung. 

Nate and I walk for a little while in silence, each caught up in our own thoughts. The forest envelops us somehow. Today I’m not dissolving quite as much, but I can still feel the forest’s presence. The roots of the trees feel like they’re part of that too. Like I can somehow feel the tree roots underneath our feet. I feel supported and a little in awe knowing that those roots are taking in nourishment while we’re walking over them. That the ground itself is alive, is part of the living forest. 

“Do you think it’s weird?” I ask after a few minutes of silence. “The energy healing thing, I mean.” Nate looks at me as if trying to figure me out. “No”, he says. “Do you think it’s weird?” I shrug. Do I think it’s weird? Good question. “Maybe.” He smiles. There is something about the way that Nate talks. He leaves these long pauses that invite others to talk. Like he is creating an empty space for others to fill. “I think I’m mostly worried that other people will think it’s weird”, I continue. “Like, I’m no longer going to be taken seriously.” Nate nods. “But what do you think, Leia?” “I don’t know what to think”, I say. “Like, if this stuff is real, then why didn’t I know about it? And why couldn’t I tell before?” Nate nods again. Something about the way that he is listening helps me think about the topic more clearly. Like there is a soft pink mist in the air. The mist is subtle, to the point of almost being invisible. It blends with the trees and the nature around us. 

We walk for another few minutes in silence, before Nate starts speaking again. “Sometimes, I think, people have experiences where they open up to things they weren’t open to before. Like, events where everything just becomes different. Maybe something like that happened to you.” I can tell from the way he speaks that something about what Nate just said feels risky to him. There’s a subtle tension in the air, like he’s started holding his breath. “Did something like that happen to you?” I ask. Nate gives me a look. It’s a look that’s equal parts surprised, embarrassed and amused. A look that says “Really Leia? You want to go there?” I grin sheepishly. It seems like I do want to go there. 

“Do you remember when I went to all those meditation classes, in grad school?” Nate asks. I nod. I vaguely remember Nate being all excited about meditation for a bunch of months. “I used to come to the forest to meditate”, Nate continues. “And there was an experience I had during one of those meditations. It’s hard to describe.” I pause, giving him time to organize his thoughts. “It was like I was part of the forest”, Nate describes. “Like I wasn’t a separate being, but part of this living forest super-organism. Like nothing was really separate, or separable. Like we were all a big web of forces. Do you remember in physics, when they tell you that atoms are mostly empty space, with only a small fraction of that space being taken up by protons and neutrons? That what makes things feel solid to the touch isn’t that they’re made out of matter, but that they’re made out of energy. It felt like that.” He smiles apologetically. “I don’t know if I’m making any sense.” I nod. I know the feeling.

“Did the feeling come back?” I ask Nate. He nods. “Sort of. A little bit of it is there all the time now. That’s maybe part of why I like coming to the forest so much. It sometimes comes back when I meditate, in particular around here.” I watch Nate with curiosity. “Is it hard?” I ask. “When it goes away?” He nods. “Yeah”, he says. “But you get used to it.” I nod to myself silently as we walk. The forest feels friendly around us, like it is watching us approvingly.