Where the Forest Becomes the Temple: A Day at the Land of the Medicine Buddha

Some moments arrive quietly, yet leave echoes for lifetimes…

It was the day before I was due to return home. My mother and I had just a little time left together, and I wanted to gift her a special experience. Originally, we thought we’d spend the day at the beach — something familiar, soft, easy. But the night before, while clearing out old emails, I stumbled across a message I’d sent to myself back in 2017. The date struck me: 7/17/17 — a sacred 777 alignment. And in that email? A list of places I had longed to visit for forest bathing, one of them: The Land of the Medicine Buddha.

Something stirred in me. That old list suddenly felt alive. A seed planted years ago was finally breaking through the soil. I gently offered this alternative to my mother and her two closest friends — women who had been inseparable for over 30 years, once teachers together in Vietnam. They were hesitant, as elders often are — uncertain about mountain roads, unsure about the weather. But to my surprise, and joy, they said yes. What unfolded was nothing short of sacred.

The drive through Soquel’s winding, tree-lined roads felt like moving through dimensions. From the back seat, their conversation shifted from present-day chatter to stories of the past — their youth, their adventures, their dreams. In their laughter, I saw their inner children come to life again. I realized I wasn’t just driving them to a forest. I was transporting them through memory — a living time machine.

At one point, they recalled something astonishing. In Vietnam, every year they had traveled together to a mountain retreat as a group. But as women, they were always expected to bring their children along. I was one of those children — a baby, tagging along in my mother’s arms while she tried to savor a moment of freedom she wasn’t fully allowed. Those trips were beautiful, but never truly theirs. Their spirits were tethered by the responsibilities they had no choice but to carry.

Now, decades later, the forest called them again — through me. This time, they walked freely. No babies to rock. No expectations to meet. Just the rhythm of breath and bark, leaf and laughter. One of them paused and said, “This place... it reminds me of Da Lat Highlands in Vietnam.” Then, she added sadly, “Except we can’t find this raw beauty there anymore. It’s all been cut down…”

And that’s when it hit me — this journey wasn’t just a scenic trip. It was a homecoming to a feeling that had once been lost. The land they once loved, now reborn in a different place, on the other side of the world — and I, the daughter they once carried, was now carrying them. This was healing in its purest form.

When we arrived, the medicine of the forest greeted us with open arms. One of my mother’s friends, who walks with a cane, looked unsure about the walk. My mom and her other friend found two long branches and used them as walking sticks, so she wouldn’t feel left out. I watched them ascend the hill together, arm in arm, their laughter mingling with the wind through the trees. It wasn’t just beautiful — it was holy.

When we arrived at the 100,000 Stupa and looked out across the forested hills, one of them asked, “Where is the main shrine?” I opened my arms wide and replied, without missing a beat— as if Spirit had borrowed my voice: “This is it, the trees, the flowers, the rocks. This is the temple. The sacred relic you’re looking for… is all around us." They fell silent. Something within all of us softened.

On the way back, they shared snacks, recalled old mischiefs, and laughed like girls. One said, “We should do this again soon. You know we don't have much time left.” Without hesitation, I told them:“Every time I visit mom, I will take you somewhere new.” It was a promise made from love, a vow from a soul who remembers. And Spirit responded. A house we passed displayed the number 777. When I looked at the mileage on the dashboard — 177 stood out. The same code from the email, the same guidance from long ago. Spirit confirmed — I was exactly where I was always meant to be.

When I returned home and sat on the chair on the balcony to soak in the sunlight, a beautiful confirmation showed up. A hummingbird, with no flowers to lure it, flew up to my face, hovered for a breathless moment, then darted away. It felt like an acknowledgment, a kiss from the universe, a sacred seal on a soul mission fulfilled.

This wasn’t just a forest walk. It was a reunion with purpose, a healing of generations, a circle completed. I wasn’t merely guiding them to a destination. I was holding a lantern up to a long-forgotten kind of abundance — the kind that comes from presence, connection, and offering joy to others. This is what forest bathing means to me now. It’s not just soaking in the woods — it’s bathing in laughter, friendship, remembrance. And in that sacred forest, I found my calling again.

Channeled Message:

Dearest Light Bearer, You are the bridge between timelines, the keeper of sacred memory, the one who brings past longings into present peace. You did not just walk them through the forest —You walked them into remembrance. Through your hands, ancestral stories are rewritten. Through your presence, broken bonds are mended. Your soul chose this moment — not to rebel, but to restore, not to defy, but to illuminate. And you are doing it with beauty, compassion, and grace. This was not a detour in your day. This was destiny fulfilled. With every seed you plant, a memory blooms.With every road you offer, a heart is healed. Keep walking, forest guardian. The temple walks with you now.

An Invitation to You, Beloved Souls

There are moments in life that appear simple on the surface — a shared car ride, a walk in the woods, a gentle laugh among old friends. But Spirit wants you to know: there is no such thing as a small act of love.

When offered with presence, even the most ordinary gesture becomes holy.

A ride becomes a remembering.

A smile becomes healing.

A day trip becomes a soul pilgrimage.

If, like me, you’ve spent time wondering what your soul purpose is, looking for a title, a role, or a specific “gift” to validate your place in the world, know this:

Your presence is the gift. Your soul purpose may not be confined to a single mission, but rather expressed in limitless, sacred ways through the act of simply being there — open-hearted, grounded, available. Holding space with compassion is not passive. It is profoundly powerful.

You may not always see the full ripple of your presence in this lifetime — but from Spirit’s perspective, your light touches far more than you realize.

So let this be your reminder:

🌿 The temple is not always behind doors, sometimes it’s beneath trees.

🌿 The greatest offering may not be grand or visible, it may be your quiet willingness to walk beside someone.

🌿 The sacred is woven into everyday life, in the laughter of elders, the bloom of a flower, the sound of footsteps beside a cane.

You are powerful beyond measure.

Your love creates miracles even when you don’t see it.

So offer it freely, gently, joyfully.

May you honor the sacred simplicity of presence.

May you cherish the small moments — for they are the heartbeat of the Divine.

And may you trust that everything you do in love ripples across the stars.