There have been seasons of my life where I felt completely disconnected from myself.

Doing what I thought I was supposed to do. Holding everything together. Pushing through. Surviving.

And then, in the middle of all of it, something would surface. Quiet. Persistent.

Come back.

Come back to your body. Come back to the land. Come back to what is simple.

For me that has often looked like taking my shoes off. Putting my feet on the earth. Sitting under a tree. Being near water. Watching the seasons change. Learning the name of a plant and sitting with her long enough to understand why she grows where she grows.

The land has a way of reminding me that I don't have to have everything figured out.

I can just be here.

I am currently studying to become a Master Herbalist. I am training in the School of Shamanic Women's Craft. I take myself into nature alone, sometimes with a journal, sometimes without, and I stay until the noise falls away and I can hear myself again.

I'm learning that plants aren't new. Humans have been in relationship with them for thousands of years, long before wellness became an industry and supplements came in bottles. People were looking to the land. Leaves. Roots. Flowers. Seeds. Bark. Learning how to listen.

I'm interested in bringing some of that relationship back.

Not romanticising it. Not pretending that everything natural is automatically safe or that modern medicine doesn't have a place. It absolutely does.

But remembering that there is a whole world of knowledge sitting around us, and that we are allowed to slow down enough to meet it.

My wild solos are probably less dramatic than the name makes them sound. There isn't always a revelation. Sometimes I walk for hours. Sometimes I sit somewhere and don't move. Sometimes I find water and stay near it until something in me settles.

The important part is that I'm alone.

No phone. No one needing anything from me. No role to perform. No business to run. No mothering, no teaching, no facilitating.

Just me.

And that changes things.

When I'm in nature long enough, the noise falls away. I start noticing things I normally wouldn't. The way the light moves. What's growing. What's dying. What's beginning again.

And somewhere along the way, I start hearing myself.

That is what the earth gives me.

That is what I hope this page gives you too.

If you've found your way here, something in you is probably already listening.

You don't need to be more spiritual. You don't need to heal yourself before you are welcome. You don't need to buy anything, become anything, or fix anything.

You just need to exhale.

Maybe, when you leave this page, you go outside.

You put your bare feet on the earth.

You take a breath.

And for just a moment, you remember yourself.

That's enough.

That has always been enough.

Chelsea