Write to the forest.

Write to the beings who listen

though they'll never talk back.

They'll never offer you a gold star

or click a tiny, heart-shaped button.

An oak tree won't tell you

You did such a good job.

A robin will never like and subscribe.

But still, write to the forest.

So that you can be known,

be seen,

be witnessed.

So that you can be part of a silent, sentient

conversation

that is both story and poem

and song and dance

and deep, still silence.

The forest will never write back.

Or will it?

This Week's Card: Write to the Forest

Writing has always been the easiest way for me to think, and the way I make sense of things.

I'm writing to you, Reader, yes. But, also... I'm not. Somewhere along the way I started writing to myself, for myself.

Writing helps me to know myself, see myself, and trust myself in a way I realize I've been waiting my whole life for other people to know me, trust me, and see me.

So, I don't care if you've been journalling every day since you first watched Harriet the Spy or if you haven't put pen to paper in a decade - this week? Write to the forest.

Step 1: Find a pen and paper

It doesn't have to be fancy, but it can be as fancy as you like. Tear a page out of that notebook you've been saving for 3 years. I promise, the notebook won't mind. It might even let out a sigh of relief at finally, finally, being used for something.

Step 2: Write "Dear Forest" at the top of the page

Step 3: Keep writing until the page is full.

It doesn't matter what you write, whether your handwriting is legible, or whether you spend the first half of the page lamenting that you "don't know what you should be writing". Fill the page.

Step 4: Sign your name (first name only)

Step 5: Walk into the forest.

Follow a trail, or don't. Trees are ideal. If you don't live near many trees, you might need to drive to a park first, the wilder the better. If you don't live near any trees, the beach or a body of water will do just fine. Even your backyard can work in a pinch. No excuses.

Step 6: Find a place to leave your letter.

Find a place where your letter can slowly decompose naturally with minimum impact. You can bury it (if you wrote it on seed paper, good for you! bonus points!). You can fold it up tiny and put in under a rock, or tucked in a tree hollow. You can use a piece of string and tie it to a tree branch.

Just don't put it in anything that's obviously someone's home, like a birds nest or a fox hole.

Step 7: Walk away.

The end.

P.S. Can I ask you a favor?

I'm in love with this ritual, for so many reasons. I have a feeling it's going to be an incredibly powerful one. So...

When you've done this, would you please drop me a note and let me know how it went and what it brought up for you? Or if you post about it somewhere tag me (@megangillman on instagram) so I can see?

I have a feeling this is going in my next coaching program, and I'd love your feedback!

Thank you so much!!!