what it takes to be wild
Where do you begin to sum up an experience that takes your soul out, washes it and then puts it back in? It has been a week since I attended She is Wild Fest in Nordegg, Ab and I am still processing my emotions as the chant of 60 women in circle with me still rings in my ears:
“The earth is my bones
The water my blood
The air is my breath
The fire is my spirit”
My intention when signing up for the She is Wild Fest, retreat this past weekend was very clear- to get connected to my body. I feel that treading heavily the last five years through miscarriage, weight gain, alcohol abuse, managing a wounded artists ego, giving birth to my still born son, Chase, ending my opera career, becoming a medium and losing my mom Marilyn- my mind and soul have been living outside my body. It’s been a big time.
I have rarely felt present in this human vessel that stores my fiery soul. It was time. Through dance, breathwork, ritual, ceremony and music- I wanted to find myself again.
Here’s some reflections on my experience and what I think it takes to be your wildest self.
Create an intention.
One of the most important things I have learned in spirituality is that intention is everything. Whether you are meditating, wanting to connect with a loved one or meet with your spirit guides, you have to have an intention to initiate. When we create a clear intention, it allows energy to match it. Whether it is “ What do I need to know right now?” or “ forgiveness” or “ calm” it brings a focal point for information to come to you. When we create this clarity for ourselves, it also creates clarity for our guides to communicate to us. When I set out an intention to connect to my body- there was an aspect of it in every single workshop and session for me to link to. I also knew by the end of the session/retreat if my intention was met or not.
2. Acknowledging your Ancestors - When you heal yourself, you heal them
Most of our ancestors were not given the tool set, skills, resources, or relationships to help them heal, reflect, and grow. I think a huge part of the work we do in therapy is to heal the carried ancestral wounds of our mothers, grand mothers and great grandmothers.They didn’t have the opportunity to do this work, and so it is up to us.
I knew the “ Healing the Motherwound” workshop was going to bring me to my knees, and it did. This weekend our amazing clinician Keli Carpenter asked - If your mom asked you “What has it been like to be my daughter? how would you answer her?” This ripped me open. To sum it up, I would say “ it was hard”. Then I wondered.. what would my mom have answered to her mother? “ it was hard.” and my grandmother to my great grandmother? “ it was hard”. How can I make sure that my son Max doesn’t have that same answer one day?
As I wept on all fours, sounds I can’t remember ever coming out of me wailed through the air, snot and tears flowing onto the yoga mat- I felt as though the grief and pain coming out of me was like a type of labour. As I breathed through the discomfort of being so vulnerable in front of strangers, I reminded myself that I was here for me and no one else. As I forgave myself, and as I forgave my mother for more things that came to the surface I know it also gave her opportunity to heal and forgive her mother who could then forgive her mother.
What I’ve seen of the other side is that, our soul still grows and heals on the other side. As I heal, they heal too.
3. When you lean into discomfort, release can happen-
Living the life as an extroverted opera singer for years slowly ate away at my soul as I had to “ turn it on” for audiences, sponsors, and colleagues. The truth is, I am actually quite introverted. I prefer being on my own. Nothing exposes my reserved nature more than playing games and dancing- there was such resistance. But as I danced with my whole body, growled like a tiger and played stella ella ola again- I remembered, there is fun in freedom. As I embraced the withdrawing feelings and forced myself through the discomfort- I felt like I was breathing, and laughing freely…. I felt like singing. Why is so hard to go there? Inhibited, not judging yourself, just expressing.
4. There is transformation when you connect to nature
On the final day there was a torrential thunderstorm. The food tent was a good 10 minute walk through the woods from the gathering tent where we had our final ceremony. The land that we were on was at Ram River Tours , a beautifully epic place of Alberta where they had horses wandering free and offered trail rides . But to say there was a lot of horse shit would be an understatement. As the rain poured over the trails, the horse shit and dirt melded into one giant soup of a trail. I looked at the downward hill I had to walk down and looked at my new gold Birkenstocks ( no amount of spirituality can dim this diva) and realized I had to embrace the moment fully barefoot or ruin my cute sandals. As I stood alone without worry of judgment from others, I took a moment to observe myself. Would it really be that bad to walk barefoot through this poop mud? Will I fall down this hill? Will I ruin my shoes if I walk through with these sandals?
A flood of answers came to mind of how other people may think “Michelle Minke” would handle the situation:
“ Michelle couldn’t handle that. She’ll cry. She’s too prissy for this. She’s not going to do it.” I thought of my beautiful husband who would do anything to take discomfort from me and would most likely say…” I’ll go get the car, or here, you can wear my boots,”.
Then I took a deep breath and wondered what I actually felt in that moment and in that moment - I didn’t care. I became one with the horse shit. I held my Birkenstocks in hand and walked joyfully down the path of horse excretion. I felt free. I felt liberated. I felt by this one decision it summed up the transformation in me, the understanding of who I am becoming, who I actually am and who I always was that had been hidden by my perception of others opinions of me. I love being barefoot. Mud doesn’t bother me. Horseshit doesn’t bother me. Being soaking wet doesn’t bother me.
Perhaps it is the simplest lessons in nature that can make us go, hmmmmm?
What if I handle other paths in my life with this same reflection. Maybe this isn’t hard for me? Maybe this is easy. Maybe I’ll enjoy it.
Final Reflection
There were other wild things that one would assume at a wild weekend which I highly recommend- topless body painting, naked rain bathing, sensually connecting your body to the earth and other spectacularly wild moments that stay with those strangers and I. I feel grateful to all the souls who shared that space with me and honour their intentions and expressions shared.
I let my boobs hang out and howled like a wolf, came home with feathers weaved into my hair, a million misquito bites, mud in my toes, a desire to sing again- and yes, a little bit wilder.
This was a time of ritual, reflection, discomfort, and healing but how I can sum it up best was, a divine surrendering. Surrendering versions of myself. Surrendering my body. Surrendering my grief.
I actually believe that in the surrendering, there was a remembering. A remembering who I was, who I am and who I will be.
This song, Divine Surrendering by artist Doe Paoro, was played throughout the weekend and it’s message is just this. I invite you to place your hand on your heart, take a deep breath and see what comes up for you.
Oh, give up control again
It’s ok not to know again
Feeling in the dark
Crawling till I walk
Each time that I fall –
Divine Remembering
Holding on too tight
Trying till I might
Tire from the fight –
Divine Surrendering
Safe to surrender now
I release what is not meant for me
I believe what’s meant for me will be for me
Feeling in the dark
Crawling till I walk
Each time that I fall –
Divine Remembering
