The Forest Reflects

The forest doesn't fix you.
What it does, if you let it, is reflect. It holds up a mirror, not of your appearance, but of your existence. It shows you what still breathes beneath the exhaustion.

When I came back to the woods, I was full of grief. Not the loud kind. The buried kind. The I-can't-name-it-but-it's-heavy kind.

And the trees didn't ask me to explain. They just stood there, still and vast and whole. I started standing a little taller beside them.

Healing isn't always upward. Sometimes it spirals. Sometimes it sinks. Sometimes it rests in leaf litter and lichen and the quiet realization that being alive is enough.

The forest said nothing. And in that silence, I heard myself.

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*Peer reflection, not therapy advice. Your healing journey is uniquely yours.*