nature won't heal you

unpopular opinions and earthly delights

a few years ago, while studying for my bsc in psychology + working at a gluten free vegan bakery, i struck up a conversation with the local eccentric. a covert millionaire man who carved his own wooden shoes and fished illegally at the town’s local pond. 

we were discussing my career path and desire to be a positive psychologist.

he advised me to cut my losses and quit while i was ahead.

there’s nothing the great outdoors can’t fix or heal he preached. get your feet in the grass, your hands in the soil. breathe fresh mountain air, bask in the beauty of trees, dip in cold open waters. that’s all you need, that’s all anyone needs.

at the time, i was crestfallen. with a brain primed to soak up unsolicited elder male advice and a total lack of sense of self i felt defeated.

now, respectfully, i couldn’t agree less.

some of the most potent healing i’ve received has been in badly lit fluorescent western doctors offices. drawing blood. receiving diagnoses.

in uncomfy leather chairs in sterile therapists offices finally becoming sober to the depth of dysfunction i was steeped in as a child.

trust me, as a new age wellness girl for my entire teens and twenties there was nothing i’d like more than to bypass the dark heavy shit through deep forward bends, turmeric shots, or hours spent forest bathing. but these things really just scratch the surface. they feel lovely, they can give fuel to do the harder, heavier lifting.

crystal quartz in your bra and frequent brisk walks in mama gaia can offer strength + a robust spirit to go forth and do the honest work of examining the roots. removing the rot. cutting ties. setting boundaries, then setting them again. 

i wish i could have spiritually bypassed my cptsd or functional mushroomed my pain away. but it didn’t work, and trust me, i tried.

lately, my healing practice includes sleeping in- dropping the rigid evening and morning routines. being indoorsy. doing somatic movement gently, lazily. letting go of years of constant fear and terror, high cortisol, chronic hypervigilance, fight flight freeze fawn flop. watching movies that bring me comfort and scrolling here, on substack with a heating pad on my sacrum. these healing things are not done on hammocks in the amazon, whilst sipping plant medicine, or composting or potting echinacea. there is no blue mind or negative ions during these little moments. yet it’s helpful, honest, profound. healing lately is telehealth sessions with a doctor who sees the whole picture and a therapist who validates me but won’t let me turn a blind eye or shirk responsibility when reparenting my wounded, often terrified inner child.

the inner little girl who was dragged along as her lost adult self plunged in ice baths and rose to greet the sun. smudged herself with ethically sourced palo santo and cut out eggs, dairy, grains-whatever the elder gentlemen authority figures told her to do. held yoga poses for too long with shaky legs and prayed at the feet of elephant figurines. anything to avoid doing what was really needed- cutting off toxic family members and friends, looking trauma in the eye, being selfish- self centered. kind and nurturing to self. 

earthly darlings,

it’s not the emfs or the 5g.

it’s not the blue light or the stuffy rooms.

sensitivity to those things would not exist without the constant subtle attacks on safety, immunity, nervous system dysregulation that a childhood on eggshells caused.

when you get to the root, you can be happy anywhere. in the midst of lush jungle, auburn forests, cool placid lakesides or in bustling cities.

now that’s what i call true freedom and sovereignty.

a return to abundance and bliss.

to your true, as it were, nature. ♥