VANAPRASTHA ~ Going to the Forest
VANAPRASTHA
The season of life that asks us to turn inward
Lately, I have been thinking a great deal about the different stages of a human life.
Not simply childhood, adulthood and old age…but the inner seasons we move through.
The years of learning.
The years of building.
The years of working, caring, creating, parenting, achieving and participating fully in the world.
And then, at some point, the almost imperceptible beginning of another movement…
A turning inward.
In the Vedic tradition, this stage of life is known as Vanaprastha.
I have quite a few friends and clients who are moving into this season of life, and I feel such a sense of joy and, strangely, relief when I hear them speak about it. It seems to me that this may be one of the most beautiful phases we ever experience: the gradual release of who we thought we needed to be, and the beginning of the journey back to the Self.
THE FOUR STAGES OF LIFE
Vedic philosophy describes four broad stages, or Ashramas, through which a human life may unfold.
Brahmacharya is the student stage, a time of learning, discipline and preparation.
Grihastha is the householder stage, the years of family, work, responsibility, contribution and active participation in society. (I am currently in this phase).
Vanaprastha is the gradual withdrawal from the intensity of worldly striving and a movement towards reflection, spiritual life and the sharing of wisdom.
Sannyasa is the final stage of renunciation, in which attachment to identity, status and worldly ambition is gradually released in favour of complete spiritual freedom. A letting go of ego.
Although these stages were described within a very different historical and cultural world we can still recognise their rhythm within our own lives: the years of learning, the years of building and caring, the gradual turning inward, and finally, the release of our attachment to the roles and identities that once defined us.
I find the idea of Vanaprastha deeply moving.
GOING TO THE FOREST
Vanaprastha is often translated as “going to the forest” or “retiring to the forest.”
Traditionally, it described the time when a person began to step back from the responsibilities of household life. They might hand practical duties to the next generation, live more simply and devote more time to contemplation and spiritual practice.
For most of us today, going to the forest will not mean physically leaving our families, homes or work.
It may not mean withdrawing from life at all.
Perhaps the forest is something we begin to create within ourselves.
A quieter interior space.
A place no longer governed entirely by achievement, productivity, expectation or the need to be recognised.
A place where we can finally begin to hear what has been waiting beneath all the noise.
WHEN THE OLD WAY NO LONGER FITS
I think many of us begin to sense this transition in midlife. For women, it may arrive alongside the unmistakable physical and emotional changes of perimenopause and menopause. For men, it may emerge more gradually, as a change in energy, identity, ambition or purpose, and a growing sense that the things that once drove them no longer hold the same meaning.
The body changes.
Energy changes.
Our tolerance for noise, pressure, superficiality and constant activity may change.
The pace we once maintained can become difficult to sustain. The roles we have carried for decades may begin to feel heavy. The things that once motivated us may no longer hold the same meaning.
This can be confusing.
We live in a culture that tends to interpret any reduction in productivity as a problem. We are encouraged to maintain the same appearance, energy, ambition and pace indefinitely.
And so, when the body asks us to slow down, we may assume that something has gone wrong and desire to be a past version of ourselves again.
But what if the loss of interest in constant striving is not a loss at all?
What if it is the beginning of another kind of intelligence?
FROM PITTA TO VATA
Ayurveda also recognises that life moves through different energetic stages.
Childhood is governed primarily by Kapha, the energy of growth, nourishment and physical development.
The middle phase of life is influenced by Pitta, the energy of ambition, transformation, responsibility, productivity and purpose.
Later life becomes increasingly influenced by Vata, the energy of space, subtlety, movement, intuition and spiritual awareness.
Many of us spend the Pitta years building a life.
We work.
We raise children.
We run businesses.
We create homes.
We care for others.
We make decisions, solve problems, organise, strive and carry responsibility.
These years can be deeply meaningful. They can also be exhausting.
As Vata begins to increase, our attention may naturally become less fixed on what we can produce and more interested in what all of it means.
The same Vata that can create dryness, joint stiffness, sensitivity and change also carries subtle perception, creativity, insight and a greater capacity for spiritual inquiry.
The body may become less tolerant of the old pace because the purpose of this stage is different.
NOT WITHDRAWING, BUT REDIRECTING
Vanaprastha does not ask us to stop caring about the world.
It does not ask us to abandon the people we love or become passive.
It asks us to consider where our energy is going.
Perhaps we continue to work, but no longer allow work to consume our entire identity.
Perhaps we continue to care for our families, but begin to include ourselves within that care.
Perhaps we remain involved in the world, but become less interested in proving ourselves to it.
Perhaps we begin to offer what we have learned rather than constantly trying to establish our worth.
The movement is subtle:
From proving towards knowing.
From accumulating towards simplifying.
From achievement towards meaning.
From external approval towards inner authority.
From constant doing towards conscious being.
THE WISDOM OF BECOMING LESS AVAILABLE
There is something quietly radical about a woman becoming less available to everything that once demanded her energy.
Less available to unnecessary conflict.
Less available to urgency that is not truly urgent.
Less available to roles that require her to abandon herself.
Less available to the belief that rest must be earned.
Less available to the endless expectation that she should remain pleasing, productive and unchanged.
This is not selfishness.
It may be discernment.
The Sanskrit word Viveka refers to the ability to discern what is real from what is temporary; what matters from what merely distracts us.
Perhaps Vanaprastha is the season in which Viveka becomes stronger.
We begin to see more clearly what deserves our time…and what does not.
THE FOREST WITHIN
The forest has always represented something beyond ordinary social life.
It is quiet, but not empty.
It is alive, intelligent and largely indifferent to human status.
The trees do not care how productive we have been.
The earth does not ask us to justify our rest.
The seasons do not resist change.
Nature reminds us that there are times for growth, flowering and outward expression and there are also times for shedding, resting, simplifying and returning energy to the roots.
Vanaprastha asks us to create a little more forest within our lives.
A little more silence.
A little more solitude.
A little less performance.
A little more time to sit with the questions we may have been too busy to ask.
WHAT IS MY DHARMA NOW?
Dharma is not necessarily one fixed purpose that remains unchanged throughout life.
Our Dharma evolves as we evolve.
The responsibilities of the householder years may be very different from the responsibilities of later life.
There may come a time when our contribution is no longer measured by how much we can carry.
Perhaps our role becomes the sharing of wisdom.
Perhaps it is mentoring the next generation.
Perhaps it is caring for the land.
Perhaps it is creativity, service, spiritual practice or becoming a steady presence within our families and communities.
Perhaps it is finally learning how to live without constantly turning life into a task.
Vanaprastha invites us to ask:
What no longer belongs in my life?
What am I ready to release?
Where am I still measuring my worth through productivity?
What genuinely nourishes me?
What wisdom have I gathered that may now be offered to others?
What is my Dharma in this next season?
THE SELF BENEATH THE ROLES
Vedanta reminds us that beneath all the changing roles of life is something that does not change.
The body changes.
Our relationships change.
Our work changes.
Our children grow.
Our appearance changes.
Our place within the world changes.
Yet the awareness witnessing these changes remains.
This awareness the deepest Self, or Atman is not made greater by achievement and is not diminished by ageing.
It was present when we were children.
It was present through the years of work and family life.
It remains present as those roles begin to shift.
Perhaps one of the gifts of Vanaprastha is that the identities we have relied upon begin to loosen just enough for us to sense the deeper Self beneath them.
CREATING A MODERN VANAPRASTHA
We do not need to leave our homes and disappear into the forest.
We can begin gently.
We might create a quiet corner for meditation.
We might spend more time walking in nature without listening to anything.
We might choose one evening each week without television, social media or unnecessary noise.
We might begin the morning before immediately entering the demands of the world.
We might simplify our possessions, commitments or routines.
We might return to prayer, mantra, journalling or sacred reading.
We might ask ourselves whether the life we are living still reflects what we value.
Vanaprastha does not need to happen suddenly.
It may be a gradual movement of attention from the outer world towards the inner one.
AYURVEDIC RITUALS FOR THE INWARD SEASON
As life moves from the Pitta-dominant years towards the Vata stage, the body often needs more warmth, nourishment, regularity and care.
Abhyanga
Warm oil massage is one of Ayurveda’s most important practices for the Vata stage of life.
Oil brings the qualities of warmth, stability, softness and nourishment. It supports dry skin and provides a daily moment of reconnection with the body.
Even five minutes of warm oil applied slowly to the feet, legs, arms and joints can become a form of moving meditation.
Our Vata Massage Oil is warming and grounding, while Bala Ashwagandha Oil offers a more restorative choice for times of depletion, muscular fatigue or weakness.
A quieter morning
Before checking your phone or entering the activity of the day, sit quietly for several minutes.
Drink warm water or a cup of Tulsi tea.
Notice your breath.
Ask yourself:
What is truly needed today?
Not everything that calls for your attention deserves your energy.
Time in nature
Spend time somewhere that is not organised around human productivity.
Sit beneath a tree.
Walk beside the ocean.
Listen to birds.
Feel the air changing around you.
Allow nature to remind you that simply being alive is not the same as being unproductive.
Nourishment rather than punishment
The Vata stage of life does not generally respond well to harsh restriction, excessive fasting or continual self-correction.
Choose warm, freshly prepared food.
Eat regularly.
Include nourishing fats, adequate protein and digestive spices.
Let food become part of how you communicate safety and steadiness to the body.
An evening return
Create a small ritual that marks your withdrawal from the activity of the day.
Wash your face.
Massage oil into your feet.
Light a candle.
Repeat a mantra.
Write down what you are ready to release before sleep.
These practices do not need to be elaborate. Their value comes from the intention with which they are repeated.
A DIFFERENT KIND OF BECOMING
We speak often about becoming when we are young.
Becoming educated.
Becoming successful.
Becoming a parent.
Becoming established.
But perhaps Vanaprastha is not another project of becoming.
Perhaps it is a gentle unbecoming.
The release of identities that have become too small.
The softening of ambitions that no longer belong to us.
The gradual discovery that beneath all we have built, achieved and carried, there is a Self that was never dependent upon any of it.
Maybe the question of this season is no longer:
What else should I do?
Perhaps it is:
What becomes possible when I stop needing to prove who I am?
With warmth,
Carly
BioVeda