Wild Haired Girl

I remember her well. That wild haired girl. The one who wouldn’t wear shoes and liked to run around in her underwear. Her imagination was blossoming. Each day, a new opportunity to create, explore and find pure joy in the infinite world outside. She could occupy herself for hours contently with a blank piece of paper, a pile of blocks, a puddle of mud, a pool of water to swim in. She was me, that wild child. And little did I know, she held all the answers already within her.

There’s been a long journey between that girl and where I stand today. But all the while, my seeking has brought me closer and closer back to her and her wild wisdom.

My first draw away was as a professionally trained ballet dancer. I spent most my time growing up and into my early adult years indoors, inside a fluorescent lit studio. Meticulously critiquing my body, my form, and my technique in the mirror that stood before me. It was a tool used to allow us to see ourselves in order to make correction. But it served as a lingering ridicule of my worthiness that would last for decades. Yet dance served as a solace both physically and as self expression that I did not yet recognize until I lost it. It also drew me close to beauty in expression, creation, movement and music.

Inevitably I left the performance world after countless injuries to both my psyche and my physical body. One’s that reappeared continuously and reminded me of the suffering I put myself through for a gold star each day. For that chance to be called the best. I was lucky enough to find a mentor while living in San Francisco at the ripe age of 17, who helped me understand that I could always return, but may regret forever not knowing what life outside the studio felt like. What it ultimately held for me in the great offering of life.

I fell prey to the distracted life of uncertainty after that. As if I was learning the world as a “normal” person for the first time. I felt I had lost time already, even as such a young women. I wanted to make up for it quickly. Had my first relationship, got my first big girl job, and began to succumb to the woes of mundane life. I found glimpses of false freedom through partying and drinking. It made me feel alive for short periods of time. Eventually I felt the need to get away from myself and my choices and returned to the great city by the bay to find some direction in art school.

A career in graphic design followed shortly after. I threw myself into my work. Always making sure to be the last to leave the office. I quickly rose to the head of my creative department where all bets were on me. Everything fell on my shoulders. And I leaned hard on coffee during the work day and alcohol at night. I ended up transitioning to freelancing in an attempt to pull myself from the workaholic, everything rides on my performance, way of living. One I was quite familiar with from the world of dance. It all felt a little too in sync and left an unhealthy mark on my life and my time. My body felt the effects promptly. A slow decay of soul and health seemed to overtake me as time went on. And then it happened.

I began to crack.

My body was trembling under the pressure, both self inflicted and outsourced from my need for validation through work and achievement. I stepped out of the dance studio, but never stepped away from that mirror. The one saying this was where my worth lived. In the perfection. The over-achiever energy. In the need for applause of some sort. The ability to perform without resource – without sleep, proper nutrition, and too much caffeine. We can only withstand this climate for so long.

And the cracking was painful. I succumbed to it as it brought me to my knees. For years gaining footing and then crumbling again. A deep anxiety took over. At times too afraid to drive my car in fear of an attack that would leave me helpless behind the wheel. I became an incredibly unstable individual. And this all made me smaller and smaller and smaller. Until my life simply felt like the fire had gone out completely. The pilot light was out and there was no stoking that could create the heat and the energy I so desired to rise.

In desperation, I began to climb out of this hole through small subtle modalities. Meditation, mindfulness and yoga helped me immensely. Though they are not instantly gratifying when your starting from a point as low as I. None the less, they got me through. I began decluttering and finding deep intention through my belongings, and the products I chose to use. I moved around so very much at this point that the call for simplicity was such a gift. The more I moved, the more I felt I wanted less. Less baggage to carry through life. Both literally and on a subconscious plane. These small shifts began to show me I was not simply cracking, but cracking wide open to what might be trying to call me home.

I also explored my sense of purpose intensely. I began metalsmithing and selling my jewelry as a means to creative expression and paying the bills. But my desire for simplicity and minimalism eventually filtered that from my life as well. I leaned into my design work and sought to create a strong business model through wedding client work, but that fell apart with the pandemic. My journey brought me to Colorado, far from the ocean I knew, where I first explored the life of a new city and then got rooted into the Rocky Mountains that stood high above. I lived on twelve acres in a 80’s camper in the dirt. This is where my next big project grew from – the dream of a home of my own – a tiny house on wheels. This took the next handful of years. All my energy and purpose and creativity and determination and funds and mind power went into her.

I beautifully received the opportunity to find deep communion with mother nature while in those woods. Surrounded by the great pines, the firs, the lush aspens whose leaves whispered in the wind to me. I began to find consciousness around food as medicine, media consumption, and earning my keep through hard work in a whole new way. Without a continuous water source or electricity without the help of my propane generator, I began to understand deeply the gratitude I hold for our modern world. Yet still feeling great capacity in experiencing the way things have been for so long before us. I began to Reconnect. Reawaken. And slowly, Restore myself.

I was beginning to reclaim the embodiment of self and of our great mother and the beauty all around us. And this only continued as I explored my new home of the Sonoma Coastline in northern California. Oh her beauty is vast and great and I have never developed such reverence for the wild wisdom of this earth. The rich nourishment that she breaths life into each day.

And it was then that I felt her. Deep within me. She was beginning to emerge through the tangles in my hair and my bare feet on the earth. Through the awe that welled up inside of me and then poured out of me when I stood alongside the great redwoods and looked out over the ocean in this much untouched land. Through the winds that kissed my skin and whispered sweet nothings through the trees and over the river towards the blue mountains I saw in the distance. The ones I sat before each morning in reflection as the day arose.

That wild haired girl was with me. Her magic was returning. As I reawakened to the beauty around me, I began to reawaken to the beauty within me. I had connected to it here and there, but always seemed to forget. Yet as the earth drew me closer, pulling me into her like a mother holding her kin, my innate wisdom grew from a childlike state of wonder. I began to reclaim the wild wonder of it all – and thus my life force. My light had been reignited. Yet my flame needed continuous tending to to keep it’s fire ablaze. That fire has allowed me to call upon action when I needed it most. To create discernment with what may have been hindering my spirit on this journey through time and space.

And here I find myself in this tending phase. Working to grow my light and honoring when it has become dim and needs more oxygen, more life to make it roar. It’s a constant dance of modern life and fueling the fire within. Of returning home time and time again. Of remembering that wild haired girl within. She has always known the way. And I am excavating the timeline of my life and my soul experience to bring her closer and closer to the surface.

It is here I have found healing. It is here I continue to explore to reclaim the wild soul that wants to come through. And it is here that I move forward, seeking to become and receive my place as a keeper of light and wisdom as my offering to this earth and the people she holds. It is here I will surrender to the unknowing of the landscape of our world, our society and our future. Aiming towards my true north for deep connection and nourishment in my offering to my community and my own being. And I thank you for being here alongside me on this journey. It’s a wild winding road back to the remembering we’ve always known.