Trees
On bushwhacking, knowing when I'm headed in the right direction, and moving at my own pace.
A few announcements before diving into today’s essay.
Authenticity Tuesdays are BACK!
In January, I hosted weekly conversations about what authenticity means to us. You can view the prompts we discussed here and read about the initial inspiration for this series here. A few minutes into the first session, I already knew that these conversations would be a highlight of my year.
We’ll be starting up again on March 12th from 8:00 - 9:00PM EST. Totally free, no pressure to come every week. Sign up below, and see some wonderful people had to say about the past sessions!
Participating in Alexa’s Authenticity Tuesdays was a perfect way to start the year and get clear on how I want to show up for myself this year. I'm looking forward to participating in any future series like this that she hosts!
I attended Alexa's "Authenticity Tuesday" series, and I'm so glad I did. Alexa has a gift for holding space, asking thought provoking questions, and helping you learn more about yourself and how you go through the world. I would highly recommend working with Alexa, whether it's in a group format or if you are lucky enough to have 1 on 1 sessions with her. Your life will change for the better!
I handcrafted each of these packages based on my own experiences, and the needs of the clients I've worked with. (ex: I have spent several sessions with my coach talking about the sentence "That sounds ambitious", and those three words were truly the inspiration for the Ready, Set, GOAL! package below.)
These packages range from 3 to 6 sessions in total. I like to think of them as coaching intensives, which are perfect for those who aren't sure if a 3-6 month coaching commitment is right for them at the moment.
Email me at alexajordancoaching@gmail.com to set up a free complimentary session, or to check my schedule and find a time that works for you!
For those of you who are new to Wild Cozy Free, I recently created a downloadable guided journal full of prompts to help you cultivate more authenticity! I launched Authentic by Alexa a little over a month ago, and we’ve already sold over 50 copies! I am so deeply grateful and so excited to hear about what it’s bringing up for people as they reflect on what authenticity means to them. Learn more and download for just $13 below. Your support means so much!
Onto the essay!
People are often taken aback when I talk about my time at The Mountain School. I don’t really blame them; if I met me, I would probably be surprised that I’d spent four months on a farm in Vermont when I was 16 too.
But I did. And I loved it.
I loved seeing the stars at night. I loved the community that my semester formed. I even grew to love the animals that horrified me at first. (I still don’t get too close to cows, goats, or chickens. I give them their space - we respect each other.)
I found out somewhat quickly that I have a knack for bushwhacking, which the dictionary defines as “cutting or pushing one's way through vegetation or across rough country, not following an established trail.”*
Put more simply, bushwhacking is when you grab a stick, and use that stick to make a path for yourself in the woods.
This song has absolutely nothing to do with the essay, but it was in my head the whole time that I was writing it, and Frozen II is profoundly underrated.
Bushwhacking made me feel powerful. In a diary entry during my time at The Mountain School, I compared bushwhacking to walking down the streets of Manhattan with a bunch of shopping bags trying to make it through a sea of tourists on 5th Avenue. I stand by that metaphor. It really fits the quintessential “city girl gone country” image that I had going for me back then.
One of our first assessments during my semester involved identifying the trees we’d been studying in environmental science. Nature was quite literally our classroom. For our quiz, my small class of 10 or so walked outside the schoolhouse building with paper and pen and were instructed to write down the names of the trees our teacher pointed at.
I don’t remember what grade I got on that quiz. The only tree species I remember, and can still identify today, is a paper birch. The trunk of the tree looks kind of like it’s wrapped in rough, jagged sheets of white paper that you could peel off easily.
What I do remember is the enormity and sturdiness of those trees. I probably got distracted during the quiz because I was daydreaming and feeling philosophical about it all.
I return to nature metaphors a lot during sessions with my coach. A while back, I wrote about the cave where I picture my wisest self. In a recent session, I admitted to my coach, that the cave I picture in my head is the same one where Katiness nourished Peeta to health in the Hunger Games.
My Wisest Self
A huge, huge, huge thank you to everyone who read and shared last week’s post - it is officially my most viewed essay!! I’m deeply grateful for your support, and couldn’t think of a better way to cel…
I also feel like the cave I’m picturing is similar to the one I pictured while reading Song of Achilles. (The one where Achilles and Patroclus lived, when they were training with Chiron.)
There’s a coziness and warmth about my cave, even though it’s nestled in the heart of the wilderness.
The wilderness in my metaphor, represents the outside world. The cave is where my authentic self has been taking shelter while I reconcile my outer world with my inner world.
Lately, I have been metaphorically venturing out of that cave more and more as I start to explore the wilderness again. In many ways, I’ve felt very tucked away lately, while grappling with grief. I’m actively thinking about how to exist in the wilderness, and show up as this new more authentic self that I became while resting in the cave.
I’m thinking about how I’ll have to bushwhack and create new paths.
I have this image of myself walking from tree to tree.
My coach and I talk about how I know when I’m heading in the right direction, and what that intuitively feels like. I tell her that it’s less about where I’m going and more about how I feel on the way. The way that I’m showing up for people, and impacting them. How present I feel in my body.
I think about the people I’ll meet along the journey, the places I’ll encounter, and the opportunities that I’ll come across as trees.
Some are long-lasting - sturdy and rooted and strong.
Some are temporary - flimsy and susceptible to break with the right gust of wind in a storm.
Some trees will be swiftly uprooted - like the one I studied for my final science project at The Mountain School. At first, I thought it must have been an old tree. But eventually, I realized with the help of my teacher that it had to have been a somewhat young tree, for all the roots to have come up in the way that they did.
Glennon Doyle also talks about the idea of trees in Untamed — touch trees.
A Touch Tree is one recognizable, strong, large tree that becomes the lost one’s home base. She can adventure out into the woods as long as she returns to her Touch Tree — again and again. This perpetual returning will keep her from getting too far gone….Now when I feel lost, I remember that I am not the woods. I am my own tree. So I return to myself and reinhabit myself.
-Glennon Doyle, Untamed
I absolutely believe that I am not the woods. And my own tree. My own home.
But for the purpose of my metaphor (my wisest self being out in the woods after resting for so long in her cave), I also think that we can have multiple touch trees. People, places, and things that make us feel like ourselves, and help us feel connected to our authentic selves on our wild journeys.
The texture of these trees feels like home. They are new and yet so familiar.
Like sitting down for coffee with a new friend, and suddenly feeling like you’ve known them all your life.
Or reading a book that makes you feel instantly seen.
Or listening to a podcast that somehow makes you feel like you’re at an intimate dinner party with your closest friends.
When I reach those trees, I want to lean on them, relish in their sturdiness, and stay awhile.
I want to stop being worried about when I’ll ever find a tree like this again. I don’t want to rush off to the next tree in search of something greater or worry that I’m not moving fast enough on my journey.
I just want to stop and enjoy the trees around me, right where I’m standing.
I want to feel grounded, present, and free, right here in this moment.
For even the sturdiest trees won’t stand forever. If grief has taught me anything, it’s taught me that.
A more simple definition of bushwhacking is simply to make one’s way in the woods.
Nature provides us with such a powerful example of what it’s like to make your way in uncharted territory, at whatever pace is necessary.
We don’t rush the flowers in the winter. We don’t rush the sun in the summer. We don’t rush the leaves as they change colors in the fall.
We literally can’t. And we likely wouldn’t if we could.
Don’t rush yourself either, on whatever journey you’re on.
Be where you are. Lean on your Touch Tree. Nestle up in your cozy cave. Bushwhack with gusto.
Just do it fully.
And then do the next right thing, when you’re called to.
Do the next right thing, all the way home.
To the next tree, and the next tree, and the next…
PS
I wrote this essay about trees a few weeks ago, and then ironically saw a new musical called Redwood this past weekend. Will definitely write more about this magical, magical musical soon - and what I’ve learned about the redwood trees. For now, here’s a picture of me gazing at a poster of Idina. AND A picture of Idina in real life gazing back at me! (Another story for another time.)
I love that you were getting all philosophical during your quiz on trees! A little foreshadowing of your future self❤