All the Feels of Slow Living

Rewilding Mind

Hi there, it’s Hillarie! Rewilding Mind is space where I share my transformation from leaving modern city living to embracing a slower pace of life in the country. Read on for ideas on returning to nature, finding ourselves, and creating community. 💚

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Hey friends,

It is good to be back after a much-needed break. This year, I have written through many losses, most of them went unspoken and unprocessed—physical departures, mental breakdowns, emotional separations, and spiritual evolutions. As feelings compounded over many seasons, I reluctantly acknowledged that it was time to slow down, decompress, make space, and simply be. Though the idea seemed far more attainable than the act itself.

If I slowed down, would I forget how to do the things that brought me to this place? If I disappeared, would I cease to exist to the people who have supported me along the way? If I was only present in my physical space, would I lose the trust or credibility of those who could not see me? Many real, human questions swirled through my head as I worked up the courage to slow down.

Relief or Grief

The decision had been made, so all I had to do was gracefully bow out. I sat on my deck, next to my container gardens—the two gardens that were the catalyst for much of my transformation. My knee bounced as I forced myself to focus on a few final tasks. I called on the powers that be to give me the energy, give me the will. I pressed publish on the newsletter and breathed deeply—almost there. I launched my IG app, recorded a quick note about my decision to enter a digital detox, and posted it. Another deep breath.

I set my phone down but didn’t quite feel the closure I needed. What was I missing? Ah, yes, one last thing. I unlocked my phone, squished my finger down the technicolor IG icon, and dragged the digital universe across my screen into the digital dumpster. Good riddance, I thought, as I leaned back into my chair, satisfied that I had given a tiny middle finger to the Meta empire.

My eyes bounced around the natural space around me as I tried to anchor myself to the present. I stared at the miniature sunflower growing awkwardly in one container garden. I noted the browning leaves on the towering maple trees so early in the year. I gazed out at the still waters of Skagit Bay, wondering who might be looking back at me from the adjacent island. 

I searched for what I was feeling in that moment and when nothing registered, I willed myself to feel relief. Didn’t it feel amazing to be done? To be offline? To be accountable only to me and my family? Doesn’t it feel so good?

I stood up and marched inside to announce to my husband that I was done. I had checked out. I had moved on. The declaration was empowering, but it did not drastically alter the state of my being. 

Disappointed, I curled up on the couch and tried to pinpoint what it was that I was experiencing. Once I stopped trying to change the feeling, I quickly saw it for what it was. It was the looming grief that I had been desperately running from for all these months.

Big Feels, who dis?

Slow, quiet country living has afforded me a lot of time alone with myself and my feelings, something I rarely had in the city. We do not own a TV or game console, and it is unusual for me to watch much of anything on streaming platforms. Instead, I use my downtime to be in my garden, read books, learn homestead skills, clean my home, and do other activities that I once considered an absolute bore. I normally cherish that time, but recently these activities had turned into distractions from some overdue processing.

That is because, after over a decade, I made the courageous decision to go off my depression / anxiety medication and free-ball it in the emotional world, so to speak. It was a bold decision that I embarked on with the guidance of several healthcare professionals and the support of many loved ones. I knew it was the right time for me, but I had no idea what exactly to expect on the other side. As a result of ditching the meds, I was feeling a lot of things for the first time ever as an adult and did not know what the hell to do with all the feels.

Instead of living to the tune of a few simple notes, I was now experiencing the discord of many scales, all at once. It sounded like a middle-school band, eagerly warming up for their first concert and I was an unsuspecting passerby, searching desperately for the nearest gymnasium exit. Some of the notes were fine, but most made me feel weepy, overwhelmed, annoyed, and frustrated. After a few therapy sessions, I came to the unfortunate conclusion that I would not be able to leave the middle-school band concert until I sat down and made sense of the chaos that was my feelings.

Well fuck.

I knew it would be difficult, but I just wanted to skip to the good part. Couldn’t these metaphorical band students practice on their own time? Maybe I could simply overpower them with a Spotify playlist? It was hard to distinguish one note from the next or to know what I was supposed to do when each note sounded. 

Past versions of myself would have used this opportunity to find the nearest pastry shop and eat away the emotions. Or find an adorable boutique and buy a satisfactory amount of items that I could not afford. This time, I knew that all I could do was be with myself and do the hard work of sorting through all these oozy, gooey feelings.

Just Feel, Don’t Judge

Country living has taught me that given enough time, things will evolve and find a new equilibrium. In the past few years, I have escorted myself through many difficult seasons of life and watched myself persevere. I am not the same woman who signed the mortgage papers two years ago, and happily so. This felt like yet another new frontier, and it was up to me how I would face this fight.

I laid on my couch, hot tears streaming down my cheeks, face-to-face with a rainbow of smears and smudges on the soft upholstery, courtesy of my two young kids. At that moment, I remember that I have been here before. And not only had I been here before, but I found a way out of the darkness. If I had done it before, surely I could do it again. 

I told myself I would be alright. I promised myself I would be all right. I reminded myself that even though I am the only one that can be on this inner journey, I would never be alone. I knew to say these things to myself because they are the same words I whisper to my son when he feels scared, alone, or uncertain. They are affirmations that build strength and fortitude within oneself, and I can tell you, they work.

Within a short time, I received messages from a few friends offering love, support, and encouragement, knowing I have been going through difficult times. Their words gave me the strength to continue to be with myself, have compassion for myself, and not judge myself. I continued to remind myself that feelings are inherently neutral and I do not have to place a value on them. I tried to envision them as waves that are in a constant state of movement, and each one will eventually pass.

Radical Self-care

Since I was ready to do the hard work, I made a conscious promise to myself that I would be present for myself and actively care for myself through this difficult season. After all, I am all that I have. I had to first pour into myself if I wanted to extend that same love and care to my family, friends, and community.

And so, I did.

I took baths almost daily with soothing epsom salt and my kid’s lavender scented bubbles for pure joy. I shuffled slowly through my home, listening to Buddhist teachings that grounded me in universal truths. I nourished my body with homemade baked goods, fresh produce, and gobs of local honey. I did only the activities that brought me joy and said no to requests that drained me. I spent time with people who saw me for who I was, loved me for where I was at, and made no attempts to fix me.

Days passed and I could feel myself getting stronger and my emotional state being lifted. I drank earthy mushroom lattes to mark the beginning and end of my days. I spent time reading about healing traditions—crystals, herbs, and rights of passage. I burned bundles of sage from my in-law's garden to cleanse my spirit and my home. And when I felt bogged down with feelings, I journaled, taking the opportunity to practice recognizing changes in my feelings and shifts in my emotional state.

This was a level of caring for myself that I had never allowed myself to experience. It felt like real healing that transcended the extravagant “self-care” products sold in retail stores—the ones that I had bought shamelessly, certain that this would be the fix to all my woes. Turns out, nothing sold in stores was going to teach me how to speak kindly to myself, to not judge myself, and to sit with myself in the darkness.

It was true self-care. Radical self care.

Systems Rebooting

After weeks of gentle, thoughtful, and careful movements, I felt good about the progress I had made. The day-to-day feels still fluctuated. But instead of being surprised by each internal visitor, I learned to say hello and be curious about what brought each one to me. Sadness, fear, anger, hope, melancholy—each seemed to have a story to share. With time, each visitor felt less mysterious and daunting. They began to feel more like guides who had come to walk me through an experience. I could resist their presence or invite them to teach me something new.

While I am certainly not out of the woods, this slow season has given me some necessary perspective on my journey. It has helped me shift into a new way of being and develop intentional practices for self-care that I may not have considered otherwise. The stillness has made room for me to think about my writing and my entrepreneurial endeavors in new ways, and I am excited to share a big announcement at the end of this newsletter!

For now, my rewilding journey continues on and I am grateful for the lessons I gained along the way. Each has been hard won and they give a deeper, more complex understanding of myself and the world around me.

I would love to hear your story: When was the last time you had an intentional or forced season of slowness in your life? How did it feel and what did it teach you? Simply hit reply to share with me directly or share it with the BGCL community via the Substack page. 

Thanks for joining me on this journey of discovery and deep inner work. Take care, be kind, and we'll talk soon,

Hillarie

BIG ANNOUNCEMENT: Rewild with Me

If you have been following my writing, you know all about my rewilding homestead journey and how it has completely changed my life.

• I moved from fear of failure and perfectionism into hope and possibility.

• I traded loneliness for meaningful connection with myself, family, and my community.

• I transformed insecurity into self-love and confidence.

What started as a simple idea to leave the city and grow a few vegetables yanked me out of my rational brain and forced me to be present. It allowed me to see the interconnectedness of everything and challenged my ideas of what I thought was a good life.

What I thought was success no longer felt fulfilling. I was creating world-class education and coaching programs for executives and teams at Amazon, but began to feel like the antithesis of the life I was now pursuing. So I quit.

Instead of enabling mass consumption, I wanted use my skills for good. I started to put on garden classes at my local preschool, provide education at my local farmers market, and now I want to walk other people through their own rewilding journey.

Are you ready to rewild?

After many inquires from readers about how you can rewild your own life, I am excited to announce I will be offering 1:1 Rewilding Coaching for 2 individuals who are ready to do the work.

It is a 10-week structured coaching experience that includes a detailed intake to understand your goals, weekly 1:1 calls with me, thoughtful reflection activities, support between calls, and a custom Rewilding curriculum to support your transformation.

I will be guiding you through my unique framework that has allowed me to find success on new terms, and you will be applying it to your own life.

This is a great opportunity for you if you are:

• Determined to find another way of living but don’t know how to get there

• Ready to get in touch with yourself and the interconnectedness of all things

• Willing to put in hard work to see meaningful change in your life

• Open to be challenged and sitting with difficult truths

• Looking for support and accountability for your rewilding goals

As my beta round of coaching, I will be offering this at a one-time reduced rate. You will be getting a transformational experience, access to my support and expertise, PLUS you will play an essential role in shaping this experience for future rewilders.

I have two spots available starting in October.

If you are ready to start your Rewilding journey, send me a message saying Let’s Rewild! to hello@ blackgirlcountryliving.com or simply respond to this newsletter.

 I am so excited to hear from you and be on this rewilding journey together!