‘Why not go through the forest today?’, the thought dropped into my mind on Saturday, April 23, 2022. Yeah, I had already taken a walk around the field in the sunshine just a day ago and now it was cloudy, so I wouldn’t miss any sunshine when I went into the shade of the forest instead of my usual walk around the fields. It would be the first trip to the forest this year.
With a little excited anticipation about what would be in store for me on that day, I got on my bike and took the short ride to the forest.
I had intended to put my bike right at the entrance of the forest and then walk the rest of the way, but for some odd reason my mind seemed to be wiped blank when I passed that spot and I ended up riding further into the forest instead.
‘Okay, never mind,’ I thought. ‘Who knows what this will be good for. I’ll just put my bike next to the little bridge then and walk from there.’
This time, I didn’t miss the spot. I locked my bike next to a small bridge and then took a walk around a lovely nature reserve area.
Even though the landscape was beautiful, my mood was rather brooding. Triggered by current events, thoughts about past stuff from work came up. Anger about not feeling appreciated enough in the past and my resulting intention to reduce my level of engagement at work. I still haven’t truly forgiven this issue. Regarding my day job, I am in a sort of detached, disengaged state most of the time. It feels peaceful on the surface, but if anything touches that old wound, emotions of anger and sadness come up again.
There are many benches along the way and I usually sit down often to rest and enjoy the view. I was glad that I was alone on this walk. Sadness came up and I let the tears flow. I didn’t even know whether the tears were sadness about the work anymore or whether they were a sign of release. Tears of relief as if someone hugged me after I had gone through a rough time.
In that brooding and teary-eyed mood, I got up and walked a bit to leave the nature reserve again where I suddenly saw a new bench at the side of the forest. The wood of the bench was old so it must have been there for a long time, but even though I had walked past this spot many times, I had never noticed a bench in this place. Maybe someone put an old bench in this spot?
So, I thought that I still had enough time since I rode my bike too far into the forest that day and shortened the way which I would walk and therefore I could rest on that new bench. And then a couple of minutes later, I decided to make a small detour. All because I still had enough time left.
As I walked a small, barely visible detour-path which I had never gone before with the forest on my left and the fields on my right side, I saw another bench. It was old, had a hole in part of the seat and was out of sight from the main path. How nice that there were so many benches in beautiful spots.
When I sat down, still teary-eyed, I saw that on top of some graffiti a (German) text was written on the old, weathered wood.
Here is the German text:
Alles ist gut.🤍
Du bist ewig!
Du bist wunderschön.
Es ist kein Zufall, das[s] du hier bist!
Wir passen auf dich auf!“
All is well.🤍
You are eternal!
You are beautiful.
It is no coincidence that you are here!
We’re looking after you / watching over you!
My tears welled up even more, this time because of wonder and gratitude. Until I was able to laugh again. Then I said to my guides, “Thank you. You guys are amazing.”
I don’t know who wrote this lovely message and for whom, but now it became clear to me how I was guided to this bench all along and why I was made to miss the first parking spot of my bike at the entrance of the forest.
At that day, I didn’t have any device with me to take a picture.
When I came back two days later to take photos of the bench, I also saw that several of the trees were marked with two white dots by the foresters. And someone had played with these dots and painted faces on a few trees like in this picture.
I think these kinds of stories happen to me, but they do not belong to me. They want to be shared. So, that’s what I do. I hope you also find some miracles in the forest or somewhere else in everyday life.