I’ve been reflecting…

Half a decade ago, when I was 26, I incorporated my first business, Healthy and Harmonious Life LLC. I was doing okay. I was teaching several yoga classes, had a couple private clients, and was starting at a women’s wellness center where I would have the support of the clinic and access to other opportunities through that network. All in six months, I did this! 

But then it all went wrong. I got really sick. I couldn’t eat because it was too physically painful. I lost 15 lbs in a matter of weeks, and I hadn’t been over-weight. My aunt died, and I was too sick to even fly to the funeral. My really nice boyfriend decided to go to medical school in California, so we broke up, and the six months I had allotted to get my business financially stable was up. I couldn’t live in the house where I was — it was so chaotic (to be fair I lived with an amazing woman, but we had different styles of organizing space, let’s just say). 

I was terrified. I really thought maybe I was seriously ill, but was too scared to go get tested. I didn’t feel capable. I didn’t feel worthy, and I straight up wasn’t okay. I gave up, and went back to “the farm,” left the farm, went back, left, went back… A lot happened in the interim. My own Persephone’s Journey through the underworld… And then I left again, and this time I went into the wilderness. 

I went to the edge of the northern wood— the Gifford Pinchot National Forest which expands from Canada to Mexico. I spent a winter in a 10×10 hut at the end of the road of a small town, a half mile up a snowy hill through the forest from where the car could be parked. The car died every time I parked it, so I learned a lot about cars, including how to unhook and re-hook the battery every time. My amenities were: a wood stove, a spring, a hole in the ground, an out-door cast iron bathtub, a pile of wood and a box of candles. I sang. I prayed. I walked up the hill at night and I was no longer afraid. I didn’t talk about it. I let it be. I practiced the healing work I do every day. I studied. I received healing. I did the meditations. I practiced. I sang. I prayed. I practiced. I watched the mountain. I prayed.

Then on the day of Easter, the rebirth of spring, I went for a short walk in the woods and on my way back, I got lost. For five hours, I was utterly lost in the endless woods. I knew where I was, but suddenly it flattened out, and the spring by my feet was a different spring.

I kind-of still knew which direction was which…as long as I was right…

At first I screamed for help, but the forest was silent and it started to snow.

“Sit down.” It was a stern inner voice. Forceful. It buckled me at my knees. “Sit down,” and this time it was my mother’s voice, at the mall, telling me if I got lost to stay put and she would find me.

But how long would it take until someone found me now? It would be a day or two before a friend thought to come see if I was at the cabin, or why I wasn’t answering my texts. I thought, a search and rescue would probably find me within five days. I thought, I can go five days without food, and I have this spring for water. But my feet were damp, and although the snow wasn’t sticking… 

I didn’t have matches or even my knife, and I knew that without even my knife for making a friction-fire kit, there was no way I could make a fire. Hypothermia was my biggest risk. 

And would they even find me? 

The forest is vast.

I panicked, but realized quickly that panic would bring death, and I had a choice. If I chose to walk the wrong path, I would be lost, and quite possibly die within a matter of days. If I chose the right path, I would make it home. 

I thought about death. I thought, a forest isn’t such a bad place to die.

I thought, I’d rather my body became a forest…

But then I thought, I want to live yet. I have work to do yet! Have I really learned all the lessons I set out to learn? I felt sure I had more to learn, more to do, and more to be of service. I resolved, I will try my best to walk the right path and if I don’t, at least I will die trying. 

So what did I do? I prayed for guidance, for help, and for protection. I prayed because I didn’t know my way, and I needed to “know” the path without knowing.

I am grateful because shortly thereafter, I walked out of the forest and made it back to my cabin, but the day wasn’t over.

At 11pm, the alcoholic care-taker of the property (who lived on the other side of the property and didn’t interact with me, and yes, I had permission from the land owner to be there), came and aggressively let me know I was being evicted (at no authority, but nonetheless. He was simply the way the gods made sure I got the message).

Needless to say I left the cabin and felt “lost” for a period afterwards, so I prayed, and practiced, and prayed…

To be on the right path.

Now, it is 5 years after I gave up on my private herbal medicine and yoga practice. What’s changed? 

I’m no longer alone, even if I’m by myself. That has led me to feel worthy, capable, and deserving. It has led me to the support networks and the teachers I need. It has led me to be willing to invest in myself, in my business, and in my healing in ways I never would have before. It has allowed me to give and to serve like I never could. It has allowed me to have more patience and compassion with myself, and when I feel lost, I can just sit down and ask for guidance and pause until it comes. I don’t have to keep pushing myself to the far reaches of the northern forest, until my belly is starved and I’m underweight and sick. I don’t have to give up. Every wrong turn is a lesson, and I pray every day to walk the right path. Now, there’s no choice. I can’t not. I’m walking my path, and I am going to help people as I go. I’ll live it from a hut in the woods or an apartment in the city. There’ll be a lot to figure out along the way. I’ll do it in buckskins or I’ll do it with mascara and eyeliner. It doesn’t matter at all. Because I’ll do it. I am doing it. So be it. So it is.