The holiday season is such a mixed bag for me. Do you feel that, too?

I love slowing down and syncing with the quiet, inward energy of the land. I love gathering with family and friends for food, stories, games, and laughs.

And at the same time, my heart aches for Mama Earth as I witness Americans consuming more in a few weeks than some countries do in an entire year. Gandhi’s words swirl in my mind like a desperate prayer: “May we live simply so that
others may simply live.”

Every bright, shiny new gift — the phones, the gadgets, the toys, the clothes — is made from materials taken directly from Mama Earth. Minerals stripped from mountains. Water diverted from rivers. Oil drilled from ancient seabeds. Trees cut from forests.

Leaving behind devastation where cherished wild places and wildlife once flourished.

And the craziest thing?

Most of us don’t even want the gifts we’re given. Research shows that a large percentage of them end up in landfills within a year. Forests, mountains, wetlands, deserts — the homes of our beloved owls, foxes, and butterflies — turned into garbage in record time.

And for what? Mostly to line the pockets of a billionaire class whose hunger for power and profit seems to have no limits. Grrrrrrrrr.

This is where we come in.

As nature-loving women, we cannot keep feeding this machine. We are being called — urgently — to protect what is sacred and life-giving. To choose a different way forward even when it’s scary or uncomfortable.

Here’s a potent truth: Women control the vast majority of consumer spending in this country. This means we hold immense power.

And we can wield this power with love…for Mama Earth, for our human and more-than-human families, for future generations of all species.

I’m inviting your boldness and your love this holiday season — to make it one that gives to Life rather than takes from it. Here are some ideas…

• Talk openly with family and friends about opting out of obligatory gift exchanges.
• Offer acts of service instead of things.
• Repair, mend, or share something someone needs.
• Buy used — take advantage of our vibrant secondhand economy: thrift stores, consignment shops, “Buy Nothing” groups, stuff swaps.
• If you must buy new, buy less and buy from small, values-aligned businesses rather than giant corporations (Amazon, Home Depot, Walmart, Target) that profit by causing so much harm and injustice.
• On an energetic level… dream, dance, sing, pray, paint a vision of a world in which all Life is honored and respected.

It is our joy and our responsibility to put our love into action — to shine our lights brightly in service of the world we want to live in, and the world we will leave for those who come after.

If not now, when?
If not us, who?

The other morning I was sitting against a doug fir tree at a local nature preserve, barefoot, dropped into my senses, feeling amazing.

Then, out of nowhere, I heard someone moving fast through the forest. I turned and saw her: a black bear, a fifty yards behind me.

She stopped and looked around. I stood up, made noise so she would see me, and we checked each other out. Neither of us felt threatened, so we just stared. And I, of course, swooned. :)

Then we both heard another noise. A biker appeared, dragging his bike up a trail he wasn’t supposed to be on, huffing and puffing. Something about him felt a little off, so the bear and I both had our eyes on him, occasionally glancing at each other like, “You good? Yeah, I’m good.”

Eventually, the bear wandered off. The biker rested, then finally rode past me, less than 50 feet away.

He never saw me.
He never saw the bear.
He had no idea he was being watched by a big, beautiful black bear and a barefooted babe. (That’s me, ha!)

And it struck me how much he missed.

What I’ve concluded: Where we place our attention is everything. Attention is one of our human superpowers—our ability to choose where we put it.

When we place it on the living, breathing world around us, not only do we wake up parts of our brain and nervous system that modern life puts to sleep, but we get to experience the magic of the wild nature around us and the wonder of being alive.

When we don’t… we miss it. Just like that biker.

A couple of weeks ago, I got to kayak on the Klamath River, which was freed last summer when four dams were removed from it in the biggest U.S. dam removal project in history.

Paddling on this newly-liberated river got me thinking about my own freedom.

I used to live for moments when I felt truly free. But I seemed to only experience them when I removed myself from my regular life and went on some wild adventure — to the backcountry, to a foreign land, to an altered state.

But what I’ve discovered through deep nature connection is that freedom is much closer than we think.

It takes root, grows, and thrives in the small, brave choices we make in our everyday lives to stretch gently past our comfort zones and come back to aliveness.

For me this has looked like:

• Going barefoot outside in places where I normally wear shoes
• Wandering off-trail, letting curiosity guide me instead of sticking to the path
• Dipping my toes (or diving headfirst!) into creeks, lakes, or the ocean when it would be more convenient to stay dry and warm
• Discovering which wild berries are edible and gathering them for a snack
• Wearing clothes I don’t mind getting dirty so I can enjoy full-body contact with Mama Earth

When I stray from this kind of stretching, my world gets smaller, my mind gets tighter, and I feel bound up and oppressed from the inside out.

But every time I recommit, even in tiny ways, I remember who I am. And suddenly, I feel free again.

So if you’ve felt disconnected, dulled, or a little too domesticated lately, this is your invitation. Not to fix yourself, but to remember your wild and true nature.

To gently stretch your edges, to say yes to your aliveness, to follow your curiosity. Because that’s where your freedom lives.

And it’s closer than you think.

My mind used to be typical - cluttered, overactive, and maybe a wee bit neurotic. :)

In my 30’s my life fell apart and, in an effort to find some inner peace, I took up meditation. I started by attending an intensive retreat and then I meditated an hour every morning for years. I liked the ritual of it, and how it slowed me down and taught me about myself.

But my mind was still busy, noisy, and not so peaceful. I kept meditating, but I gave up the idea that my mind could be any different.

Five years into meditating, I got into deep nature connection. After trying out a couple of the foundational practices for a couple of weeks - essentially sitting outside, paying attention to nature through my senses (what I now call the most ancient form of meditation) - something radical happened. My mind went completely silent. I didn’t even know this was a thing!

It was a long, delicious moment during which my thinking stopped. There was no reviewing the past, no planning the future. There was no judgment, criticism, shame, doubt, anxiety. No thoughts. Just silence and space. In the silence and space, I experienced radiant sparkly peace.

It was the most spectacular moment of my life up to that point. I thought it was a one-off thing. But those moments came with increased frequency over the weeks and months. Over time, I noticed that my mind was becoming more relaxed and peaceful all the time; its baseline setting was changing.

It turns out that this is just what happens (and I thought I was special - ha!). Nature connection re-wires our brains, waking up neural pathways that have gone dormant living as busy, stressed out, tech-addicted, domesticated humans.

Let that sink in…Simply being outside for short periods of time on a consistent basis paying attention to the wonders of nature (which is very fun and delightful in its own right) effortlessly brings peace and quiet to the human mind!

And in my experience, there is nothing that affects the quality of my life more than the quality of what’s happening inside my own head. Happy, relaxed, peaceful head = happy, relaxed, peaceful life (even in the midst of a crazy world).

I was first introduced to deep nature connection during a Permaculture course. The course leader had two guest teachers talk about it and then lead us through a few experiential exercises. The first exercise was to sit outside and pay attention to what was happening around me for 20 minutes. Simple, right?

Yes, and... those 20 minutes changed my life! I felt a wise, ancient, untamed part of me stir ever so slightly from her slumber.

I had known for a long time that the way we live as modern-day humans doesn’t make any sense and that we are supposed to be in close relationship with our human and our more-than-human relations. I also knew, conceptually, that I was nature, that I was another animal living among trillions of others on Mama Earth.

Yet, I felt separate, like I was an outsider looking in. The buildings, screens, and hectic pace of life made a real relationship with nature seem impossible. On top of that, I was often stressed out, overwhelmed, and depleted. Weeks would fly by during which I felt like I was nothing more than a disembodied head doing, doing, doing all day long. I felt like was missing out on the juice and joy of life.

I longed to slow down, get out of my head, be present for my life, experience my kinship with nature, and feel alive and happy. I wanted this everyday, but had no idea how to get it.

Then I sat outside for 20 minutes and the wise, ancient, untamed one in me recognized that deep nature connection would give me all of that and more. 

In the spirit of the Haudenosaunee Confederacy’s Ohenton Karihwatehkwen or “Words That Come Before All Else”, I have written my own personal thanksgiving address….

I give thanks for the people in my life, those who are in it now, those who filled it in the past, and those who will make it up in the future. For my cheerleaders, teachers, witnesses, caregivers, and role models, too many to name; for those who trust me, look to me for inspiration, and say yes to my support; for companions and playmates; for deep wells of love, synergy, and magic; for music, dance, laughter, yoga, words, art, and infrastructure. I am so grateful for the people.
 
I give thanks for the Earth. For providing me solid ground and refuge for as long as I can remember; for astonishing beauty; for wonder; for keeping my heart true and open; for modeling generosity, perseverance, and resilience; for supplying me everything I need; for massive rocks, sensual contours, and palpable silence; for being my very favorite planet. I am so grateful for the Earth.

I give thanks for the water. For supporting life on Earth; for hydrating my body and cleansing my spirit; for over and over inviting me to dive in; for oceans, lakes, rivers, hot springs, rain, glaciers, clouds, snow, and fog; for freedom of movement and wild abandon; for awe and delight; for vastness, depth, and flow. I am so grateful for the water.
 
I give thanks for the plants and the trees. For diversity of size, shape, texture, niche, and color; for nourishing my every cell with nutrients and oxygen; for stabilizing the soil; for tools, medicine, shelter, and habitat; for peace, stillness, and magnificence; for never holding back; for abundance; for fruits, roots, and flowers; for delicious fragrances; for strength; for a thousand shades of green. I am so grateful for the plants and the trees.
 
I give thanks for the fungi. For decomposing even the most hideous stuff; for helping me be healthy and for teaching me new things; for other-worldliness; for keeping me on my toes; for nurturing the trees; for balance. I am so grateful for the fungi.

I give thanks for the animals. For filling my life with joy and amazement; for modeling wildness, self-sufficiency, acceptance, and surrender; for bellows and songs, growls and snorts; for increasing my capacity for empathy; for providing food, clothing, and support; for keeping me humble and deeply in love; for naked self-expression. I am so grateful for the animals.
 
I give thanks for the wind. For caressing my skin and making me feel vibrant and alive; for purifying the air; for rustling the grasses and leaves; for sowing seeds; for waves and power; for keeping me appreciative of safety and protection; for being the messenger of change. I am so grateful for the wind.
 
I give thanks for the moon and the stars. For reflecting to me my own wholeness and light; for steadiness and clarity; for bringing out the bats, owls, and coyotes; for keeping things in perspective; for helping me stay oriented; for igniting passion, curiosity, and lofty visions. I am so grateful for the moon and the stars.
 
I give thanks for the sun. For powering life on this planet; for warmth and light; for seasons and for cycles; for vivid color; for dappled shadows on the ground; for sunrises and sunsets; for reliability and longevity; for fire. I am so grateful for the sun.

I give thanks for the ancestors. For those who tended the Earth so that I may live today; for those who protected lands, planted trees, and cared for soils; for those who worked in service of a far-reaching life-giving vision at the cost of short-term personal gain; for those who passed down essential stories, teachings, and traditions; for those who loved and mentored the children. I am so grateful for the ancestors.
 
I give thanks for all the offspring of all species yet to be born. For providing me a constant source of motivation; for giving my work in this world purpose and meaning. I am so grateful for all the beings still to come.
 
I give thanks for the Creator/Spirit/Truth/Universe (I’m still searching for the right name!). For the gift of Life moving in, as, and through me simply and mysteriously; for being in control; for being trustworthy; for meeting me on my growing edge; for being an ever-present silent space to rest in; for being fierce, wise, and indifferent; for grace; for expressing through me with creativity and enthusiasm; for waking up within me; for loving me madly. I am so grateful for Life.