The Year of Rewilding

A couple of months ago, I saw a sign.

Not like a metaphorical, “the Universe is speaking to me” kind of sign.

A literal, physical sign.

I was on a walk at a park in our city, and passed by a sign that said, “Rewilding in Progress.” I kept walking for about 5 more steps before a thought suddenly struck me: “THAT’S IT!” I immediately turned around and took a photo.

Not the most well-composed of photographs, but the goal wasn’t to have this framed on my wall. Instead, it was to confirm that I had found a word to describe how my brain and body had been surviving the past year.

Rewilding, in terms of conservation, is the process of converting land back to its original ecological qualities by reintroducing lost species, such as beavers or wolves, to the area. These animals significantly affect their environment through their own natural behaviours, and their presence can help to restore biodiversity. This idea of a restoration and a return to an original state of being was what really struck me about seeing the sign that day.

You see, no one in my family would label me as an “outdoorsy” person- you won’t see me climbing mountains or camping in the backcountry. But this past year and a half, as I struggled with my mental health postpartum, my new identity as a mother, a new baby, and a pandemic, I have found myself almost desperate to be outside. Part of this was likely the fact that being outside was one of the only consistent activities allowed to us since the pandemic began, but it felt like something bigger than that to me. It felt like a calling.

And this is where the rewilding comes in. As I continued walking down the trail that day, I thought over the time I had been spending outside and how it had felt like a kind of homecoming, or a rejoining. I didn’t care about the temperature, or the sun, or the bugs as much as I would have before. I was willing to put on layer upon layer just to find a spot where I could be quiet among the trees. I found incredible solace simply standing alongside them, breathing. I was rewilding myself.

I know that I’m not the only one who has been doing this. With the pandemic, lots of people have been finding stress relief and grounding moments by spending time in nature. But sometimes having exactly the right word to describe an experience can validate its truth; naming it brings it into being.

This is actually what I love about therapy- getting to walk alongside someone and support them to give their experience a name. The act of naming can be very powerful.

Now that my nature-seeking has a name, I am able to be more intentional with my thoughts and actions. I get outside with the intention of Rewilding, and pay attention to the details, like birdsong and rustling leaves. I find spaces where I can be with nature on its own, with little interference, and just breathe.

I Rewild.

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Note: Before publishing this blog post I went ahead and looked up rewilding to see if there was already a mental health aspect to it, and I found this piece by Gather and Grow, listing 15 different actions to take in pursuit of rewilding yourself.