The Forgotten parts of ourselves

Trust, Trees, and Reclaiming your Hidden Greatness

Sometimes, trust isn’t about following the most obvious or tempting choice; it’s about allowing yourself to be drawn elsewhere.

• To find out more about October’s Nature Healing workshop on ‘Trust and Connection’, and grab your discount code, please scroll down to MY OFFERINGS.

I WAS WALKING THROUGH the forest, strolling past a magnificent pine tree I’ve appreciated countless times. Not only does it grow admirably tall, it also has these thick, low curvaceous branches that exude a buxom quality. As I walked, I suddenly veered towards it, which is one of the ways I know a tree is calling me into connection with it.

I felt a little flutter of excitement, thinking, ‘Who me?’ because I’ve admired this tree for some time.

But just as I drew near, my body shifted, and I found myself facing a skinny beech tree, leaning at a quite an angle instead. Not a sapling, but a tree made slender from contending with the towering pines around it.

As I write this now, it occurs to me that trust is about letting go of what we think we’re attached to, so we can sense what’s truly calling us. There may be reluctance, disappointment even. We can fixate on landing the perfect job, for example, and when it falls through, we feel like a failure, not realising a more magical door will open to us.

I gave a little nod to the majestic, curvaceous pine, and then paused to check in with my body. Interestingly, I sensed excitement about the beech tree calling me – its lanky, slouching growth pattern had triggered my interest. What experience would I have with a tree that appeared so unassuming, so nonchalantly content with its lot?

I’d come to the forest to receive a message I might discuss in my podcast interview with

Maureen Calamia

host of ‘The Enchanted Earth’ where guests share magical stories of nature. I thought it would be fun to bring a message from the trees to her audience.

I wrapped my hands around the beech’s slim trunk, my fingers almost touching. Pressing my forehead against its cool, lichen-speckled bark, I emptied out my mind, removing all attention to my thoughts so that, untethered, they could float away and leave me in spacious readiness.

After several minutes, I saw myself standing waist-deep in the ocean. My arms hung down, palms resting on the slightly foamy surface. Above me, the sky was coated in a smooth layer of silver cloud, the sea a rich shade of granite. I stood, watching the ocean heave and dip around me, noticing how the water touched my palms and then fell away. At one moment my hands were submerged by the icy water, and then there was a great distance between my flesh and the rippling wet of the ocean. I felt air, space, the sense of a gap.

I knew immediately this represented the parts of ourselves we regularly feel and offer to the world, and the parts we’ve let sink away from our awareness.

AS I CONTINUED WALKING through the forest, it struck me – just because we’ve lost connection with aspects of ourselves, doesn’t mean they’re gone.

Perhaps we ignore the parts of ourselves that need attention or validation, deeming them too insatiable, too demanding. Or, like the receding sea, we’ve forced our anger or assertiveness to sink down deep, hoping it will never reemerge. Maybe we were once forthright, only to be labelled bossy, and so we buried that part in the sand.

I paused, sensing the rich peace of the forest all around me. It thrummed through me, slowing my blood. My pulse was attuning to something far beyond my surface, everyday worries that can cause my heart to skitter. A slow, steady beat from the centre of the earth was shepherding me now.

I considered how we often place our palms on the parts of us we think negatively towards. We focus on the ways we believe ourselves inefficient, dipping our fingers into the cool wetness of our perceived lack. But beneath this conditioned surface, sunk deep, lies a greatness, our greatness.

For me, it’s the tree goddess within, the imaginative, intuitive aspect of myself I’m learning to let rise to the surface so that I can bathe my whole body in her.

This greatness isn’t an impressive display of holding ourselves together, being outwardly successful, or admirably busy. In fact, the irony here is that this supposedly impressive performance is fashioned from a wounded opinion of ourselves; the more we play the role of perfection, pleasing anyone we can, the more we deny that deep down there’s a person of magnificent value.

This greatness, beneath the surface of your awareness, is the gorgeous self that wasn’t seen all those years ago and became forgotten beneath the waves of who you thought you had to be.

AS I WALKED, LETTING my tree goddess rise within me, I turned to stroll down a tree-lined path. I let my hands touch this magical aspect of me, sensed the tingling in my palms, and suddenly felt a reverence coming from the trees either side of me.

I stopped, closing my eyes, as I took in the delicate awe that blanketed me. I was suddenly a child who had bravely plunged in the ocean, fully immersing in my truth, and then run to the shore, laughing, to be met with the arms of a soft, warm towel, and then swung around in celebration.

Our wounds can prevent us from allowing the magnificence of our truth to surface. We’re taught humility, chastised for arrogance. If we try to be big, we’re reminded that smaller is more tasteful, and certainly that trees don’t talk!

As I walked and felt the reverence from the forest around, I didn’t feel arrogant, or superior in a way I should be ashamed of, but rather ‘a part of’. Stepping into my magnificence had simply enabled me to join the magnificence of the world. How she welcomed me back!

OVER THE LAST YEAR, as I’ve tried to make sense of being a tree goddess, the main obstacle has been this notion of unworthiness: surely there are other people more fit for this title? But as I walked between the trees and felt their respect, I understood that embracing my tree goddess isn’t about worthiness or unworthiness but simply who I am.

Just as trust isn’t about following the most obvious choice but allowing ourselves to be drawn to where we belong.

There’s the supposedly obvious version of ourselves we can conclude from our thoughts – that, say, we either are or aren’t this thing, we either deserve or don’t deserve to be called that, we either can or can’t do what this asks of us.

Then, there’s the truth that lies in our body, in the natural world all around us, in the centre of life. Can we allow ourselves to be drawn to this? To connect to this?

For me, as I stood in the forest, it felt true to be a woman of the trees, a woman whose most fierce desire, above all others, is to follow her heart.

I wobbled then, because suddenly my mind flew to the state of the earth and what can be done about it…

But immediately I was righted. The sinking plughole feeling of ‘Where do I even start when it comes to saving the planet?’ suddenly became a rising energy. I was lifted up. I felt the trees upholding their honour of me. In the centre of their reverence, I could do only one thing: deeply love them as a mother would.

I understood.

This is all the earth asks of me, of us. To love her.

I STILL HAVE A sense of the trees’ reverence as I write, and how it’s not a demand for worthiness, but a reminder of my true place within nature.

I know the connection I’m nurturing between myself and the natural world is also strengthening the connection within, creating a reunion between the parts of myself I have allowed to sink, the greatness I’m trusting to surface.

This same trust and connection will inform next week’s workshop where we’ll explore how the elements of WATER and ETHER can help us deepen our self-awareness and release old patterns that block creativity and connection. See my offerings for more details.

The forest teaches me that connection is both subtle and profound, available to us when we release the need to control and instead trust in the natural flow.

As always, wishing you creative contentment.

Gabriela, tree goddess

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Offerings

In this section you’ll be able to hear about my offerings and events.

JOIN ME FOR my online workshop ‘Journaling, Breathwork & Nature Healing to transform your Creative Process’

Thursday 17th Octoberber, 6pm-8pm (UK time)

This month, we're focusing on the elements of WATER and ETHER and exploring the theme of 'TRUST AND CONNECTION'.

By aligning ourselves with the qualities of WATER, we’ll learn to trust in life’s natural unfolding, finding the flexibility to adapt and move through challenges. With the spaciousness of ETHER, we’ll open our minds to new possibilities, creating room for deeper connections to ourselves, others, and our creativity.

• As a subscriber to Wild Muse, you can receive 20% off by using the code Wild01 at checkout.

• Find out more here.

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WATCH MY YouTube interview with AUTHOR, EDITOR, GHOSTWRITER and TUTOR Tom Bromley.

"Finding your voice is about thinning down your writing."