The powers of silence and solitude are ones we are often deprived of in modern society, especially in urban and suburban areas. Even though there is often noise that comes from stimuli outside of our control, we are often the ones to deprive ourselves of these powers as well. How often do we find ourselves putting on music, a podcast, or tv show simply for the sake of background noise? Even when spending time in Nature, how often do we have our headphones in, diminishing connection to the natural environment through overwhelming our sense of hearing and immersing ourselves in a vibration that only we are connecting with? I’ve certainly been there.
There is such a deep level of connection and insight that can come from listening- truly listening. In differentiating between hearing vs. listening, the former is more of a passive and involuntary process, whereas the latter is focused and intentional. When we choose mindful attentiveness to present moments, we can connect to something deeper than the surface level perceptions of our mind and senses. In slowing down and tuning in, our inner knowing comes forth and serves as a compass to help us navigate our way along the human experience. For some, this inner knowing- our intuition- is something that is felt deeply in the body, heart, and soul. It is that moment of knowing truth.
We all have this sense of intuition, but unfortunately many of us have been taught to disregard this sense. In the Western world, our culture has sought to deaden many of our senses and prioritizes cognitive reasoning, critical thinking, and rationality. Many of us are disconnected from our hearts, bodies, souls, and the world around us. But we are able to return to ourselves- these connections are not lost forever- though it may take some time. Shedding our old ways of being is a process, and sometimes change is incremental and gradual.
During this period of time I began reading for both leisure and personal knowledge. Prior to this point in life, I spent little time reading because it was an activity forced upon me from my years in school. As the years have gone by, I’ve noticed the pattern to reject or distance myself from things that feel forced upon me, and reading was one of those activities. As soon as reading became something that I wanted to do because it was for me, it became something that I sincerely enjoyed.
Some of these books were in the realm of fantasy or sci-fi, which was truly a joy as I became immersed in these stories and worlds and connected to them in relationship with my own imagination as my mind created the images of the characters, landscapes, and scenes shared in these texts. It felt invigorating to reconnect with my sense of imagination as it had become dulled from years of numbing out through tv shows. These stories became integral to another aspect of my healing: reconnecting with my emotions.
Being conditioned as male growing up, I was taught to reject my emotions that appeared “weak”. I can’t say whether or not this was taught directly or indirectly- I don’t specifically remember anyone saying to me, “don’t cry”, but it’s a message that I nevertheless picked up at one point. For years, anytime something would be so touching and heartfelt to the extent of bringing me to tears, I would immediately respond by stuffing my emotions and reeling in my tears. All this stuffing of emotions would cause me to have an “annual cry” in which I couldn’t hold back the floodgates and everything came out all at once. This pattern would take many years to undo, but some of the first moments of healing came from allowing myself to feel and express the emotions that were coming from immersing myself in these stories.
In addition to reading fiction, I began to read books such as Walden by Henry David Thoreau and Ishmael by Daniel Quinn. Walden was the memoir of Thoreau’s time as he lived a life of simplicity and solitude. Residing in a remote cabin by the lake, he lived for two years with the intentions of self-reliance, immersion in nature, and a life of intentionality that distanced from frivolous materialism. A famous quote from this book that resonates with me to this day:
“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover I had not lived”
This book was monumental in helping to introduce concepts of living intentionally, and doing so immersed in connection with Nature. Further influences for this ideology that I began to explore were from works such as Ishmael. Offering a simple description, this book introduced me to concepts of how human culture has shaped the natural environment. The author posits that cultures that hold the notion that humans are separate from and superior to other life are responsible for the destruction of the planet.
In the book, there are two primary culture-types that the author presents: Takers and Leavers. Takers- of the dominant culture that took root at the onset of the adoption of agricultural societies- is founded on the notion that humans are above other organisms, which allows for the perception that humans are meant to innovate, expand, and dominate the planet. Leavers- the cultures that reflected predominantly hunter-gatherer societies- live in accordance and relationship to the laws of nature and perceive themselves as part of their environment. This culture does not resonate with the concepts of “inheriting the Earth”, and only takes that which is necessary for their survival. Here was a major influence of being introduced to the concepts of being in right relationship with Earth and seeing the role of humanity as part of the Web, rather than having dominion and ownership of Earth.
Books such as these would be monumental in reforming how I perceived myself in this world and gave ideas of what a life of sustainable, intentional relationship with the planet might entail. I began to reflect more deeply on the meaning of life, particularly through the lens of living in proper relationship with Nature. This compelled me to start spending even more time in natural space, and the nature center across the street became more of a sanctuary to me every day.
Thanksgiving morning of 2014 I was invited to spend the day with a friend and some of his family members at an NFL game. Watching sporting events hasn’t really ever been my thing- but I was in a phase of trying new things for the sake of life experiences so I decided to go. Plus, the ticket was free, so why not? The game wasn’t until the afternoon, and I found myself waking up earlier than usual- before the Sun itself had risen. Rather than try to force myself back to sleep- which oftentimes proves fruitless for me anyhow- I decided I would get up and spend some time in the nature center that was across the street. It was my first time being there that early in the day, and there was a novel sense of peacefulness that came with it.
I recall a thin layer of fog hovering over the landscape as I sauntered along the trails. For whatever reason, fog has always been a natural phenomenon that brings up excitement for me (so long as I don’t have to drive in any busy areas), and it contributed to the morning as a whole feeling uniquely special. As I walked along, I soaked in the feeling of serenity and solitude. It was not long before my solitude began to dissipate, as the sense of being alone diminished with the persistent presence of a particular individual: Deer.
Reflecting back on all those camping trips growing up, my family and I had a tradition of sorts in which we would pile into the bed of my dad’s truck and he would drive us through the state park at dusk. During this time, we would creep along the roads as he surveyed the land on either side, keeping his eye out for Deer. Driving along, feeling the breeze run across my skin, smelling the scents of the trees and plants, listening to the sounds of birds and bugs at dusk- here was when I felt my senses come alive.
My dad always had a sharp eye for spotting Deer as they naturally camouflaged with the vegetation of land, making it difficult for untrained eyes to see them. Eventually, we would slow to a stop and he would point to somewhere in the brush, showing us where he had spotted Deer. To me, seeing this figure of the forest was nothing short of magical and I would always light up with excitement to see a being that I only got the chance to see when out on these camping trips. That feeling remains to this day.
Pivoting back to that particular Thanksgiving morning walk through the nature trail, I believe that I saw nearly 14 deer as I walked along the trails. Prior to that morning, I had yet to see any deer in the area- and never before had I seen so many deer at one time. Every time I caught even the slightest glimpse of Deer I found myself lighting up with the same level of excitement as the one I had seen before. Again, this morning had a potency of experience that felt truly special.
At some point in this walk, my eyes met with those of a buck that stood off in the brush not too far from where I had paused to observe him. Suddenly, something within me came forth and spoke to me in a moment of clarity and deep inner knowing: “This is where I belong”. Here, immersed in the company and connection with Nature, is where I truly felt a sense of aliveness that I could not connect with elsewhere. I attribute this moment to being one that was a step along my shamanic path.
This moment not only felt like a sign that came from the presence of a nature-being close to my heart, but it also felt like a message that came to me from Spirit. I felt strongly like I was being guided to and from an inner knowing that would be integral for my path towards wholeness and fulfillment. This moment and this being showed me clearly that my life needed a deeper and consistent connection with Nature in order to feel wholeness within myself. When my time in the nature center came to a close for that day, I left feeling grateful for the opportunity to connect in such a deep and intentional way.
This connection and aliveness was a stark contrast to what my afternoon plans would bring. Later that day I went to see an NFL game with my friend and his family, specifically, the Dallas Cowboys as my friend’s dad was a big fan. A few years prior, a new stadium was built for this team and it was a massive project that most- if not everyone- in the Dallas/Fort Worth area were aware of, regardless of interest in the team or sport itself. When it was completed, it was the largest domed stadium with some of the most up-to-date technology available to the industry. Many marveled at what the stadium provided in terms of guest experience.
These markers of importance and values were very reflective of much of the culture I was surrounded by, and it couldn’t be opposite of what was important to me. As the game unfolded, I found myself feeling progressively more disconnected from the experience as I witnessed the impact of what I can now understand as capitalistic influence. Ads, ads, and more ads. Everything was some type of marketing for selling a product to those who were taking part in the experience of the game. Even the game itself felt more like watching television than a competition as in between plays, some type of commercial/advertisement came up on the screen (on average, a football broadcast lasts over 3 hours but only has about 18 minutes of actual play-time). This experience, which amplified the tendencies of a modern Western passtime and the cultural norms that were associated with it, left me feeling disconnected from it all.
Comparing my morning spent in the nature center with my afternoon spent at the football game, I felt that these were prominent experiences which gave me information for what I needed to pursue and what dynamics it was time to leave behind. I felt that it reflected back to me the life path I was leaving behind, and showed me a glimpse of the possibilities of what might lie ahead. More deeply than before, I felt the motivation to look towards new horizons of living in a sense of congruence with myself, my environment, and my community.
Through my experiences that morning in the nature center, I began to reflect on what was needed for me to be in alignment with both myself as well as how to support others. At my core, the foundation of wanting to help others live a fulfilling life remained crucial. Shifting my attention from the realm of health and wellness from a fitness perspective, I began to consider what tools, skills, and education I had available to me that would allow me to start fresh with that intention.
Holding a Bachelor of Arts degree in Psychology, there weren’t many direct avenues of work that I would be able to find without further training or education. Especially not anything that seemed to me like it would allow for connection with Nature on a regular basis. But with that as my foundation to go off of, I did the best I could to find answers with what was available to me. One day I found myself doing a Google search that would open the door to a new realm of work unfamiliar to me that would prove to be life changing.
Without any idea of what would come from it, I searched: “Outdoor psychology jobs”. This three-word phrase introduced me to wilderness therapy.
Before I continue any further, I want to acknowledge the negative attention that wilderness therapy has gotten from various media sources in recent years. I recognize that within the industry, there have been programs that have been harmful and more traumatic than what an individual might have even gone through prior to the program itself. Even within the models that were more positive, they were not perfect and had space for improvements. I won’t turn a blind eye to the issues of some of these programs or aspects of the model of wilderness therapy itself. For the times in which the work was carried out in a respectful, responsible, and appropriate manner, I know that it has saved lives.
For those unfamiliar, wilderness therapy is a program model for mental health support for those experiencing intense levels of crisis. Oftentimes it is seen as a “last resort” for those who have tried various other interventions for mental health and/or substance use support. It takes the therapeutic experience out into backcountry settings to provide space for a “reset” while immersing an individual in the natural environment. In previous decades, these programs had more of a “boot camp” model, and had a much more militaristic expression compared to some programs today. As mental health support itself has changed over the decades to be more inclusive and respectful of an individual’s needs, so too has this model of intervention changed.
After this fateful Google search, I found myself drawn to exploring this potential path that could help with my own sense of fulfillment while assisting others in life-changing work. There were many models spread out across the United States, but there was one program in particular that I was most interested in, as it was located in Colorado. Looking at the program model, I felt a deep resonance with what they valued.
Part of their philosophy likened an individual to that of a house with four rooms. These “rooms” were divided into the various aspects of an individual which included the physical room, mental room, emotional room, and spiritual room. The program maintained that spending balanced time in each of these rooms promoted a balanced sense of self that could be in a state of health and wellness. Considering that I had been reflecting on that very concept for myself and my own needs, I felt as though this program was calling to me. Additionally, the program held a foundation of yoga/meditation, mindfulness practices, a diet of organic foods, and was set entirely in the backcountry of the wilderness to emphasize deep connection with Nature- all of which were things I had begun to value and yearn for in my own life.
The role that I felt drawn to was that of a wilderness therapy field guide, which were the individuals who spent consistent time with clients enrolled in the program. They were the ones who taught “hard” skills related to living in the backcountry, as well as coaching of the “soft” therapeutic skills that were meant to support mental/emotional health. These individuals were the ones who led the backpacking trips that were part of the program structure and lived full-time in the wilderness during their 7-day shifts. A saw the chance for a deep connection with Nature, with the work of supporting others, and with myself.
As soon as I read about the opportunity I reached out to their hiring team about employment opportunities as a field guide. Shortly after, I received word that they held 4 trainings each year for bringing on new field staff. I was more than eager to apply. However, in reading through the job description, I would need to have my Wilderness First Responder certification. Facilitated through organizations such as NOLS, these types of training are only held in certain locations. The closest to me at the time with the earliest enrollment date available was in Colorado in May. Should I enroll and complete that training, it would be September of the following year before I could realistically apply.
I stayed hopeful and motivated to be able to pursue that work, but cannot deny that part of me also felt discouraged and disappointed that I could not follow that opportunity immediately. It goes without saying that sometimes it is difficult to be patient. We live in a world that prioritizes instant gratification, and this has affected our ability to slow down and be with the now, and to see the ways in which waiting gives way for a time of germination. I was no different. But that period of waiting would prove to be integral for developing personal qualities, skills, and additional credentials to be a more likely candidate for the role to begin with.
One such opportunity would present itself through my job at the climbing gym. As I mentioned before, the climbing gym had within it access to yoga classes that took place regularly. Some class styles ranged from yin, to vinyasa, to “power yoga”, and various other focuses in between. Through regular attendance of these classes, I found myself deepening in my appreciation for and connection with this type of practice. Consistently coming to these classes while also teaching my own fitness classes (particularly a core-focused class) at the gym gave me the chance to get to know the yoga program director. She regularly taught classes and even attended some of the fitness classes that I taught.
Through my acquaintance with the yoga program director, I came to learn that the gym would be facilitating a yoga teacher training, specifically a 200 hour Registered Yoga Teacher training. It would be the first cohort of the climbing gym to take part in such a training. As a result of my personal practice and enjoyment of teaching group fitness classes, I had interest in taking part in the program. What made the consideration more accessible and realistic for me was the added benefit of a generous discount for working at the climbing gym.
Due to my financial situation, I didn’t often feel hopeful for additional opportunities such as that, as my two jobs at the time were just barely above minimum wage. Through my job at the climbing gym, I received a 50% discount for the training and was able to do a payment-plan with the gym. This provided the means to take part in the training which was set to begin in March of the coming year. I joyfully accepted an enrollment slot to take part in the training.
Little did I know that the teacher training would take me to opportunities beyond that of the practice itself. It seemed that fate- or rather Spirit- was opening doors for me to walk through that would help me on my path towards wholeness.
© Kalina Crafton- A Shamanic Trans-formation and shamanicallytransformed.com, 2024. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Kalina Crafton and shamanicallytransformed.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.