the one where: we discuss re-wilding myself — a new chapter.

well, this has been a long time coming. almost 36 years in the making, actually. so, let’s get started.

re-wilding — the process of rekindling our connection to nature and unearthing a truer, wilder, more holistic way of life that centres nature and simple living.

this has been brewing inside me since my daughter (4yo), Evelynne, was born, however, the strongest desires and deepest yearning has really been since my son (8mo), Anderson was born.

I will be doing a bigger post on my birth story for my son, as well as for my daughters, as many have asked and I never really wrote anything down for them. however, my son’s birth was particularly… memorable. to say I had/have some PTSD from his birth and the following events would be putting it mildly.

Anderson (AJ), was born via emergency c-section, and about 24 hours after birth I was told he had a congenital heart defect that would require open heart surgery around 6-9 months of age, in order for him to thrive and, well, live.

talk about being hit by a ton of bricks, right? damn.

now, spoiler alert, AJ is living his best life and, well, thriving! he had his surgery in April and is the sweetest, strongest heart warrior.

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so, what does all of this have to do with rewilding myself? I’m so glad you asked. let’s go back a ways and take it from the top.

I grew up in the suburbs. I was born by the water, and my parents lived in a home in, what is now considered “cottage country”, but we moved to suburbia by the time I was 3 years old. I went to elementary school in the 90s and did the same things most kids did — ran through the sprinkler in the backyard on hot days during summer break, met my best friend (who lived 7 houses up from me), half way between our houses so we could chat (rain, snow or shine!), made friendship bracelets, shovelled the driveway (not for allowance. hmf.).. the usual.

I didn’t grow up spending “extra” time outside. my parents weren’t into the outdoors. my mum was a city girl and my dad a country boy from Alberta that left the horses and acreage behind him when he came out to Ontario.

we went camping less than a handful of times, and the best camping trips were always with my family out west when we would visit. I didn’t like bugs or getting dirty. I didn’t enjoy, and wasn’t encouraged, to play in the rain or to make mud pies. playing outside as a child was sometimes used as punishment, you know? when you’d get in trouble for something, or have your tv privileges taken away and you’d say, “what am I supposed to do now?” and your parents would say, “go play outside!”… yah.. like that sounded fun.

the outdoors (other than my backyard in my subdivision), was not seen, or promoted as something to fully explore and enjoy. my parents didn’t, so I didn't think anything of it. my friends would go camping, go to the cottage.. things like that, but we didn’t do or have those things, so my idea of being “outdoorsy” was spending a week of every summer until I was 10 at my grandparents house in Ottawa (again, in a subdivision), making “food” out of leaves, and watching the rather domesticated squirrels play in the backyard.

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fast forward to the birth of my daughter in June 2019. this is when the urge really started to brew inside of me. rather quietly, but definitely still there. I started feeling the need to give my daughter more space. looking at houses outside of the city (we were living in East York and then East York/Scarborough), bigger backyard than the postage stamp-sized yard we had at that townhouse… trying to figure out how we can get more space for her to grow… for me to grow, too.

after my second daughter, Vivianna, now 2 years old, was born the urge became louder. still not 100% understanding what the urge was at the time, or how important it was, but definitely feeling it more.

Anna was born during the pandemic. April 2021. we were 100% IN IT at that point. toilet paper was scarce. formula was even more scarce, and for someone that does breast milk and formula… that was tough.

living in a townhouse in Brampton with an almost-2 year old and a new born, during the pandemic was.. a ride. I remember taking the girls for a walk around the subdivision (one that we moved into at the height of the pandemic in July 2020), and all of the parks being closed. no one else out for walks. not saying “good morning” or meeting anyone in our new city. no friends nearby, and no one in our “bubble” besides my in-laws. talk about lonely.

so, there I was. 2 kids under 2, a 3 bedroom townhouse and the urge for space getting louder and louder and louder during a time when space was at a premium.

by the time I became pregnant with AJ, the urgency for space had become almost unbearable. not just for myself, but for my children. knowing I was becoming a mum to 3 kiddos who love to run and explore and play outside… how could I only offer them a townhouse in a city with a 10x10 “backyard”.

I not only found myself longing for space for me — space to grow fruits and vegetables and be more self-sustaining at home. space for me and my kids to press our feet into the ground and breathe. space to take in the sunshine while drinking my tea or coffee outside in the morning. space for our dog and kiddos to run and play together. space to connect — to them, to me, to nature. space to process my sensitivity, my overthinking, my dreams and to centre our overall health and wellbeing as a family.

needless to say that after AJ was born and the news of a congential heart defect + impending surgery for him, the idea of leaving the city and really pursuing the idea of re-wilding myself, and my kiddos, was unavoidable. the urge had now become an alarm inside my head that was constantly blaring, but had no “off” button, only “snooze”. and how long was I going to be able to “snooze” this feeling? this desire. this need. this pull.

I started to get really pulled towards nature for just about everything. spending more time at my parents place (still in a subdivision but surrounded by more green space, and with a much larger backyard than my house. spending moe time at my in-laws place (same idea as my parents place). spending more time barefoot, with my daughters outside. playing in the grass. picking dandelion bouquets. jumping in muddy puddles (yes, just like Peppa Pig!), being drawn to plants and herbs more and more and more.

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steps on my Apple Watch have now become an indicator of health for me, but not in the ways you might think.

steps now show me how much time I’ve spent out of the house, away from my phone and computer. away from work. I now see steps as how much time I’ve spent playing, exploring, grounding and regulating, which one could argue is a better indicator of health, than how many mundane and, perhaps, unhappy steps I would have kept track of previously.

although movement, especially running and walking, have always helped me regulate, I now find my walks infinitely more effective for my mental and emotional health now that they are accompanied by plants instead of cars, birds song instead of construction noises or sirens, bunnies crossing my path instead of rogue city garbage.

when walking in the city, I’m a big fan of my ear buds. I love listening to podcasts on my walks with AJ, however, when I’m on the path around my parents place, I feel no need to silence my thoughts and indulge in a podcast. I still love them, but not on my walks. I am happily pushing the stroller and listening to the sounds of nature. running water. bull frogs. birds and insects all making their tunes. I focus on my breath and enjoying the fresh air, feeling the breeze on my skin and the sweat dripping down my lower back.

yes, these things are so simple. they are priceless. and they now mean everything to me. for myself, and my kiddos, because they are not things that should be taken for granted. not everyone can experience these things. and it became a very harsh realisation when getting the news about AJ and his heart, that he might not experience these things.

and so, my world shifted.

now, I’m focused on bringing my family into a greener space. away from the city. planning our life closer to the water where things are a little slower. more gentle. teaching myself and my children how to plant, water and grow — themselves and plants! spending more time with our hands and feet in the dirt. more time with the songs and sounds of nature. more time together.

perhaps, in this case, it’s not re-wilding myself, but wilding myself. I’ve never been a nature child. I wasn’t pulled to nature… if anything, I was pulled to anything but nature. almost as if I was running away from it. whereas now, I’m running into it. soaking it up and breathing it in and emerging myself in all that nature has to offer me.

stay wild. stay nourished.

Chelsea xxx