Lost in the Alps
Reconnecting with my wild self
I can still remember when the wilderness was a space of refuge, a place to rest and to play in my childhood. I used to walk barefoot everywhere, climbing trees, finding new paths, running around and creating adventures with my younger brother and younger cousins. My grandparents used to live in a house where the forest was the extension of their backyard, so it was very natural for me to see the forest as an extension of our play area.
One day, I was around 7 years old, I was in one of my barefoot walks in the middle of the woods and I got stung by something under my feet. I can still remember the feeling of the rash spreading throughout my body. At that moment, I didn’t think twice, I started to run back to my grandma’s house. The time I managed to arrive at the outside sink, I could see how my skin had thickened and every spot on my body was scratching so hard. I knew I needed an adult to help me with that.
In a few minutes, my father took me to the hospital, I’ve got some IV (intravenous) medications and I remember sleeping 3 days almost straight in a row.
After that day, I learned that I should always walk with my shoes on and that I should not go so far into the woods by myself … and I can still connect with the sadness of that day. I remember saying goodbye to my grandparents and I going back to my parent's house, in São Paulo, 1 hour and 30 minutes drive from my little paradise where my grandparents home used to be, in Araçoiaba da Serra.
After that episode, every time I got stung by an insect, I had to rush to the emergency room. This allergy made me feel scared from the place that once I could run freely, the place where I was not afraid to be myself, where wilderness was not a stranger but an infinite space of inspiration and playfulness.
I grew up mostly in the city and with the year going by, my life became busier and the time to catch up with the wilderness became each year rarer.
I started medical school and when I used to have some time off, the nature that I managed to connect with was very safely domesticated. And even then, I got stung by insects and again I was knocked out for another 3 days.
Life went on and I moved to Switzerland, I changed my career, I got married. And in 2012, my husband mentioned a course that ended with a vision quest in the middle of the Swiss Alps. Back then, I was not familiar with the term or the ritual, but the idea of spending 4 days in the woods by myself without a tent, without food, without seeing or hearing another human being felt like a paradise, and it made me realize a longing that I had in reconnecting with the wilderness again, in a deeper level.
I signed in and prepared my backpack, and then I went. The workshop started, I learned about the cultural background of the vision quest, I start to feel closer to myself, to nature. Until suddenly, the night before going to the mountain to find my spot and start the 4 days of the silent, food-less, tent-less retreat, I remembered that the last time I had any camping experience in my life was in my grandparent's backyard …the anxiety started to conquer my body… and I started to think, “why am I doing this? What am I trying to prove with this senseless act?” and so on… Well, the night went on and I can still remember the beautiful sun rising in the middle of the mountains as if it was a normal day. From outside, you would see me as a tired normal person, from inside I was scared as s**t, with my mind running 1000 miles per hour.
The morning started and as a group, we hiked together to the base camp on the mountain. From there the instructions were clear, “Find your spot away from the base camp and away from any other person.”
That area is amazingly beautiful and it is known for being a corridor for wild animals like bears and wolves between Switzerland, Austria, Germany and the north of Italy. I knew that they were there, but I didn’t mind since what scared me the most were the potential bugs that could cross my way. At the same time, I tried to reassure myself thinking that I had my EpiPen and pills easy to reach.
I started to hike by myself, my heartbeat was already fast, I couldn’t really see my path or where I was going... I did breathing exercises, I tried to ground myself and everything felt useless… but somehow I managed to push myself to walk away from the basecamp.
Every time I felt that I had found a spot to put my tarp to protect myself from the rain and stay for the next 4 days, I would find an anthill really close by, or wasps wandering by my side or a beehive.
At some point, I started to feel that I was walking in circles and I couldn’t find my way back to the base camp… the time was passing and I couldn’t find my spot, I couldn’t find a spot… And I got lost… I was feeling exhausted and I started to ask myself, “What am I doing here?” The answer came in one stroke. The anxiety and fear gave place to a sense of very deep sadness. I cried in a way that I haven’t cried since my brother’s death… I cried as if that sadness was an underground river that had just found a way to come to the surface.
After that tsunami of tears left my body, I connected with the sadness feeling again and I ask myself, “Why am I so sad right now?” And the answer came followed by another wave of tears, this time I knew why I was crying about …. I was crying because I was in this amazing mountain, in the middle of the Alps, and I couldn’t f***ing find my place to reconnect with nature, and the problem was crystal clear… the problem was not the place, the problem was me, the problem was within me.
After the despairing moment followed by connecting with that deeper sadness that I had denied for more than 2 decades, I decided to take responsibility for that. I took my backpack from the ground, followed the sun, found my way back to the basecamp, and I knew that the ritual had already started.
My reconciliation with my wild self was about to start.
