Re-Wilding Ourselves

Hi Wild Ones!

I’m wearing my new favorite sweater as I sit here and write - a reversible color-blocked 90s graphic design winky face. I found it when I was perusing a new boutique in Delaware, Ohio - shout out to Bowerbird and the courageous sisters who took a leap of faith to live their dream! At first I bought a beige sweater of the same design but it was MUCH less fun and completely washed me out. So I went back and exchanged it for something I didn’t even consider I could wear before! Do you have a go-to piece of clothing or accessory that just brings your essence to life? Tell me about it, I’d love to hear!

https://www.visitdelohio.com/destination/bowerbird-shop/

This week I am still thinking about joy - thankfully my ADHD didn’t move me onto a new subject yet because this one is definitely worth lingering with ;)

One of you commented that the words I typed last week were an invitation to more fully participate in joy and I couldn’t agree more. That invitation has been reaching into the corners of my life and extending itself to me. Something I am coming to understand about joy, is that it doesn’t just come from simply doing whatever you want. Instead, it is born out of your depth of connection to yourself - because when you can connect deeply to yourself, you will have more clarity around which choices will lead to your thriving. And sometimes, those choices will feel absolutely wild.

The other night I stumbled across a Youtube video called “Rewilding A Forest”. The video follows Artist and Poet Maria "Vildhjärta" Westerberg on her journey to diversify a forest her family owned and profited from but that had since weakened and became vulnerable to attack because of its “mono culture”. Her ancestors had cleared all leaf trees in favor of planting only spruce - the plants that were beneficial for their desired financial and economic gains. When Maria began talking with biologists, she was deeply grieving the loss of the trees. What they told her caused a reaction in me so deep that I had to pause the video:

“The trees are dying, not the forest. This is the way of the forest showing it wants to live. It creates a lot of deadwood where new species can come.”

Maria "Vildhjärta" Westerberg

When I heard Maria articulate this profound truth, I immediately thought of an experience I had at a grief ritual. Early in the weekend we were invited to make grief bundles of things we collected from the surrounding forest. But before we were released to take from Mother Nature, we were encouraged to participate in a reciprocal relationship with her by considering what we could offer back to the forest rather than simply taking without consideration. When I felt especially drawn to a plant or tree branch covered in vibrant lichen, I would linger and listen for permission to borrow from the forest floor. Trusting that I could move forward, I would offer a spoken thank you, I piece of my hair, or a little song as an offering to the nature I borrowed from.

Our grief bundles were meant to represent our stories of grief, and mine looked more like a bouquet. Little did I know at that moment, how much that little nature bouquet symbolized a new beginning.

Our bundles stayed with us through the day as we shared our stories in small groups. They were placed at the alter for our evening grief ritual and stayed through the close of the ritual the next day. At the end of the weekend we returned our bundles to the forest and I immediately knew where I needed to place mine (unusual decisiveness for me!) Earlier in the weekend as I moseyed outside on a break, I spotted a hollowed out tree trunk covered in bright green moss with a giant white mushroom growing upside down on the inside. I was captivated by it. So as I stepped with my intimate triad of people into the forest to release my grief, I headed straight for that tree. As I placed my bundle bouquet securely inside the hollowed out tree, I began to sing a song that had swaddled me with support just a few days before.

On the very first evening of the ritual, the group of about forty people danced and wailed to the beat of a djembe. Those who weren’t wailing sang, "you do not have to carry this on your own, this is far too big for you to carry this on your own so you do not carry this on your own." I had gone to the mats at the alter and let myself unravel with heaving sobs while all around me I felt people moving and singing "you do not carry this on your own." When I finally stood, one of the facilitators could tell I was still holding a lot of grief in my body. She made eye contact with me as she continued singing "you do not carry this on your own." I couldn't believe I was being that vulnerable on the first night with a room full of strangers. It was one of the most meaningful experiences of my life.

As I sang that song again, releasing my bundle back to the forest" I cried. Something happened inside of me. I couldn't say what, but it was one of those moments where I knew my understanding of what had shifted would unfold in time. Watching the re-wilding video, I had one of those magical moments of clarity. THIS is what has been happening inside of me over the last several years. My grief doesn’t threaten my life - it tells me, like the dying trees in Maria’s forest, that I actually want to live. Something inside of me innately knew that I needed to place my grief in the shelter of the dead wood - the very place that had invited new life in the form of bright green moss and a wholesome white mushroom. As we walked away someone in my group offered, “I hope an animal comes and makes a home in that tree.”

I am in the process of excavating my parts that have been alive but buried, and I have been laying to rest the disturbances of my system that don't support cultivating new life.

I'm pruning myself of the things that invade my internal ecosystem as I work to "re-wild" my forest.

THIS is the heart of our book, this is the heart of me. This entire video communicates my internal landscape over the past few years so beautifully.

There’s a whole connection here to what is happening in our country as Martin Luther King Jr. Day intersects with Donald Trump’s presidential inauguration. One of these men crackled with the distress cry of those vital trees who couldn’t thrive in a climate so hostile to diversity. The other attempts to clear out the forest - going so far as to rid it of important historical reminders of its former disturbances.

What if one of our greatest acts of resistance is to re-wild on every level? We can all only start with our inner landscape and then let the wild blooms expand to every sphere of our lives.

I hope you can trust that your inner landscape is meant to hold exquisitely diverse blooms - lots that you won’t understand. You, like a forest, are destined to contain and sustain multitudes.

I’ll leave you with this powerful quote from the wild soul of Toko-pa Turner:

“There is a wild woman under our skin who wants nothing more than to dance until her feet are sore, sing her beautiful grief into the rafters, and offer the bottomless cup of her creativity as a way of life. And if you are able to sing from the very wound that you’ve worked so hard to hide, not only will it give meaning to your own story, but it becomes a corroborative voice for others with a similar wounding.”

Okay just one more thought: what comes up for you when you consider who or what contributed to the mono culture of your internal forest?

Who or what told you that you were “too much?”

Who or what showed you that you can only be successful if you “play by the rules” of someone else’s game?

What would it take for you to start to re-wild your forest?

I’d love for your voices to join this conversation.

Until Next Time,

Kendra