The Forest Comes Home
A Ritual for Integration
Lately, I’ve noticed something stirring beneath the surface.
Even though I hike almost every day with Tova, my Alaskan Malamute and loyal trail companion, there are days I return home feeling unexpectedly tired. My body aches in quiet ways. My limbs feel heavier than usual. Not just physically, but energetically, emotionally.
At first, I questioned it.
How could something as soul-nourishing as walking in the woods leave me feeling drained?
But the more I listened, the more I began to understand. I’m not just walking through the forest. I’m walking through cycles—inner seasons, unspoken emotions, ancestral echoes that awaken in the stillness between steps.
Some days, I’m carrying more than I realise. And my body, that sacred vessel, is simply asking for softness. So I created a ritual, a way to honour the threshold between the outer journey and the inner return.
A way to let the forest come home with me.
This practice has become a sacred pause—a moment of integration that echoes the essence of Chapter 6 in The Sacred Womb eBook: The Womb’s Rebirth. In this chapter, we remember that rebirth is not always about beginning again. Sometimes it is about listening. Sometimes it is about letting the Earth settle inside us.
The Ritual
When we return, I begin with water.
A basin filled with warmth. A handful of salt. Pine gathered from the trail.
Sometimes a few drops of Eucalyptus and Lavender.
As my feet soak, I whisper:
“Roots beneath me, Earth within me. Forest walked, now forest holds me. I soften. I release. I return to peace.”
Then I sit with one hand resting gently on my womb, the other on my heart.
I breathe. Inhaling deeply through the nose, exhaling slowly through the mouth. Nine rounds of breath. Each one peeling back the layers of effort and expectation.
The breath brings me closer to myself, into the quiet, into the truth.
I warm a little oil—jojoba, sometimes rose hip—and add a drop of grounding essential oil.
I massage my legs, my hips, my feet.
Not for tension, but for reverence.
As I anoint each part of myself, I say:
“These legs carry ancient stories. These feet kiss the Earth with every step. I honour their strength. I offer rest.”
Then I lie down.
Wrapped in something soft. Tova curled beside me, her breath steady and earthy. I close my eyes and imagine the forest entering me:
Cool stream trickling down my spine
Golden sun pooling at my heart
Moss softening the soles of my feet
I let it all settle.
To close, I offer a quiet thank you
To the forest.
To my body.
To the path I’ve walked, both seen and unseen.
This ritual has become a gentle anchor in my day, a sacred pause. A moment to remember that even when I am moving through the world, I am also being moved by it. And on the days I feel more tender, more weary, more inward, this is my ceremony. My way of listening. My way of coming home.
If this reflection stirred something in you, you may love my new eBook The Sacred Womb: Reclaiming Ancestral Power & Feminine Wisdom. It’s a journey into the cycles, stories, and rituals of the womb—a remembering of the deep feminine that lives in all of us. You can purchase your copy and begin your own sacred return here.
May your path be soft today. May the forest hold you, as you have held so much.