Reigniting the Embers

I recently returned from a brief weekend fishing trip to the Nestucca River on the Oregon Coast. I was in search of some beautiful chrome summer steelhead. The fish (sea-going rainbow trout that live a similar life cycle of salmon) are beautiful. There is something about steelhead that is mystical and somewhat elusive. They hatch in freshwater streams, live in freshwater for a year or two, and then migrate to the ocean. They essentially disappear when they go to the ocean. Some venture north to Alaska in the Bering Sea and some might stick around the Pacific. Who knows. Then, after one to several years, these fish return to their home waters to spawn. I especially enjoy fishing for steelhead in rivers where you can see to the river bottom. If there is a fish in the pool, I typically can’t see them. After staring into a pool for some time, I might spot a gray “ghost.” They blend right in to their surroundings. If and when I hook and land a steelhead, I marvel at the lifespan of the creature. From all the fish that originally hatch from the mother, only about 1-2% of those eggs will actually complete the life cycle (e.g., go to the ocean then return to the river to spawn). It’s incredible. I feel so lucky to have interacted with the fish I find it difficult to keep one. So, I rarely do. Well, I fished an evening and a morning, and I didn’t have the chance to contemplate whether to keep or let go the silver-sided steelhead. I got skunked. But, I had a great time reconnecting with nature and reconnecting with my self throughout the process.

After fishing one night, I had the opportunity to find a camp site at 10pm on the upper Nestucca River. Pitch black. I had never camped up there, but I knew there were a few spots. I arrived to the first campsite and the place was full. So, I trekked up the road further. Sure enough, I found another camp and several car sites were still available. I hadn’t brought any firewood and I had intended to set up my tent, tie up some fishing rigs for the next day, and hit the sack. Well, it was pretty dark and my headlamp was dying down a bit so I figured I may have to rely on my car’s headlights. I needed a piece of wood for one of my tasks so I jaunted over to a vacant neighboring campsite. I noticed in the site’s fire pit a few remaining embers from what must have been left over from the previous night. And, the thought hit me:  why don’t I take these coals and try to get some wood lit at my camp site? It took several trips, but I managed to bring several of the coals over to my site’s fire pit. Then, I began to forage for some firewood. I found some large logs and a few smaller pieces of kindling. In a matter of 30 minutes I had a full-fledged fire! Enough light to set up my tent, keep warm, and tie up my fishing rigs.  

Maybe you had to be there, but I found this to be an incredible experience. To find some coals and to create a booming fire from them was pretty special. It reminds me of working with my clients, and in particular children and adolescents. I find that sometimes parents and guardians have had it with their youth. Counseling is sometimes viewed as the last resort because the ‘fire’ within their youth seems to have extinguished. It’s my belief that the coals are still lit, but you have to search for them. The coals represent your child or adolescent’s strengths. Sometimes we get so wrapped up in the not-so-pleasant aspects of our kids (a.k.a. weaknesses), we lose sight of the things our youth feel best about. I see it as my job to help you and your youth regain sight of those strengths and to find creative ways to ignite a larger flame, infiltrating all aspects of wellness.

This process isn’t easy. Change never is. But, the idea of nature cuts through the core, and I believe my unique approach to helping can get you and/or your youth there faster. The embers are there, waiting to be fueled. Take the risk, whether it be with me or another practitioner, to get that fire booming once again in your loved one’s life!

p.s., It was cool I found those embers. But, it’s also a reminder of how important it is to dispatch your campfire when you are done with it! Help prevent fires so our community can enjoy the forest for millennia to come! 

Experiencing community in Nature

This past weekend I had the opportunity to connect with my wife's family and friends near Cougar, Washington for a family camping trip. My wife has been going with her family to the same campsite for nearly 25 years with the same family friends. I was struck by the history of their camping trips and noted their level of closeness around the campfire, on the water, and in the forest. Although I know these two families to be close, I have always noted the level of community between them on the camping trips. This level of Community Connectedness that people experience together in nature has been found previously in the scientific literature, both through quantitative and qualitative measures, but I am always struck by the level of closeness I observe and experience while in natural settings. 

As part of their family camping trip, my wife's family has always gone on a 4 hour hike that includes visiting a natural spring at the headwaters of a creek. What makes this hike even more special is the memory of a specific family friend that used to love the hike, but is no longer with us. In his absence each year, the families have found several rocks at the natural springs to add to a cairn (i.e., a stack of rocks) to mark the beginning of the trail.

Typically, my wife's father leads the trip. This year, he was unable to go, which meant that several of us would have to find it on our own. The directions included "go up two hills and two flat sections on the old logging road; the first trail will be off to the right; and, if you get to the end you've gone too far but if you do that, cut straight through the trees to the right." The second set of directions included, "Once you are on the trail you'll go about 200 yards. On the left you'll find a cairn and you'll take that trail, which will get you to the creek bed that leads to the springs." [How about those directions?!]  

All 6 or so of us went over the directions to make sure we were on the same page. Once we agreed on one or two interpretations of the directions, we hit the old logging road and went up and over three hills and three flat sections, not seeing our trail. My wife, who had been on the trail over a dozen times, was convinced that we had not hit the trail yet. So, despite the directions, as a group we decided to keep going. Sure enough, after one more hill and a curve in the road, we found the trail! That felt good. So, we hit the trail and after about a quarter mile we found a few toppled over rocks (figuring the cairn had fallen over since last year) and a trail on the left. Thinking we had already gone too far, we took the trail. After going a ways, several of us had the hunch that we had taken the wrong trail. After a bit of talking, we collectively decided to turn around. So, we headed back to the second portion of the trail. We decided we had gone too far, so we began heading back, this time walking slowly, keeping a close eye out for the cairn. Sure enough, after a 100 yards or so, we found the cairn! We took the trail, found the creek bed, took in the sights, and eventually found the spring gushing from the ground. After drinking some ice cold spring water, we filled our bottles, hand-selected several rocks to add to the cairn, and began the trek back. Once we got back up the hill, we added the rocks to the cairn. At that point, I experienced a great sense of closeness with my friends, our family, and to the dearly missed friend who I had never met. 

Setting out and finding the trail that had been part of the family tradition for a quarter century was special for all of us. We accomplished something as a group and we connected over finding the trails, getting a touch lost, trusting each other enough to openly communicate in those moments, and add rocks to the cairn. I was touched by the level of closeness we each felt to one another and to the family's old friend on the trip. We also experienced a greater sense of community with the landscape, the trees, and a giant old growth Hemlock tree, not to mention several of the family members that could not make the trip. Upon returning to the camp, we were eager to share some of the ice cold spring water and a picture we took in front of the cairn. To me, the photo represented family, interconnectedness, and harmony. 

Each family or group of friends is different. Accordingly, each experience in a natural environment will be different. The next time you go on a group hike, be clear about your expectations. Where are you going? About how many miles? How long will it take? Who is carrying the water? The snacks? If you get a little lost, slow down and talk about it. View such a moment as a way to enhance your communication, your friendship, and your commitment to one another. Be supportive and nurturing of one another, and take your time. It's not a race to the top; nature is something to experience together to deepen your sense of closeness to each other. 

Questions? Comments? Curiosities? Feel free to leave a comment or question below. Check out the rest of my website for more information about EcoWellness and how I can assist you on your journey. 

Be EcoWell!