Guest post: Grounded in Nature, Ellie Mc Bride

To understand my relationship with nature, you have to understand a bit about my dad, Robert, and a little about how I was raised.

My dad left home at 16 to make his own way in the world. He doesn’t have a high school diploma, he got his GED instead. To me it seems that my dad had 100 jobs between then and when he was 21 (when I was born). He was a shepherd. He was a lumberjack. He was a caretaker. 

You see, when I was in grade school it was just me, my younger brother, and my dad.

Dad is a smart guy and the kind of person who always finds a solution to any problem. He has trained his way up to being a high level nursing assistant and has spent nearly the last 30 years helping people with mental health issues. My dad made sure he had a good job to support his family, even when it meant that he was working graveyard shifts or had a schedule where he only had days off midweek. We never had a lot, but he always made sure we had enough. And a lot of our entertainment was the good old outdoors!

To my dad, the forest is home. He actually said that he would believe that he was a successful parent in some way if we knew our way around nature and could survive if we ever needed to.

So from an age so young that I don’t even remember when it started, my brother and I were taught how to fish, forage berries and mushrooms, how to start fires and use nature to ground and support ourselves. We went camping and learned about archery. We were taught about the predators of the forest, like black bears and mountain lions. We learned about other risky species like Brown Recluse spiders, fire ants and ticks. We were taught about the food chain and the circle of life. 

Actually, it wasn’t uncommon for my dad to call in and excuse us from school so we could have some midweek family time. That’s how essential my dad believed all of us spending time in nature was! If you haven’t been, the forests of the Pacific Northwest in the US are breathtaking. I was raised in these forests.

Gayle Forman wrote in her book Where She Went,

“I'm pretty sure that when babies are born in Oregon, they leave the hospital with birth certificates - and teeny-tiny sleeping bags. Everyone in the state camps. The hippies and the rednecks. The hunters and the tree huggers. Rich people. Poor people. Even rock musicians… I don't know if it's because no matter where you live, the wilderness is never that far off, but it just seemed like everyone in Oregon camped.”

And when I read this, it deeply resonated. The outdoor culture back home is something very different to what I’ve experienced here in Northern Ireland. The wilderness is really never far off and everyone spends time in it at least a few times a year and in pretty much any season.

My time in the forest with my dad and brother shaped me. 

It informed my ideas of self-reliance, taught me how to push forward even when it was tough (and I was tired and hungry and sick of walking). These days taught me that the world was so much bigger than me and my own problems. And that sometimes listening to the birds and squirrels is all you needed to settle your mind.

Now as an adult, I’m still most grounded when I’m in nature. 

When I can be amongst the trees, when I can hear the critters of the world going about their business, when I can take in the power of the ocean or a vast waterfall. 

And then bathe in it, be a part of it all.
I think that’s a huge part of why I miss home so much, beyond missing those I love most in this world. Every time I go back to Oregon I find ways to get time to hike, be in a river, or go tent camping! Actually, even without those things to turn to here in NI, nature has been one of the few things keeping me sane throughout this very long pandemic period. I spent my summer working from my front garden any time we had a patch of sun come through Belfast. I socialise by walking in nearby parks with my friends. I started running to feel the air on my face and move my body more. 

One of the most healing things for me was doing sunrise yoga and ocean swims this past summer with Carla of Connect Yoga. 

It helped teach me a bit about how to surrender.

⁠As a loud and proud control freak, surrender is a term that I'm not very comfortable with.⁠

⁠I have a plan and a template for every situation. From packing to consultations to my grocery list. ⁠So when life decided to throw me for a series of loops this year (on top of the loops it threw us all) I managed the best way I knew how, but it only worked to a point.⁠ I spent months grieving this summer about situations with my family that I had no control over and had been frustrated and emotionally blocked. Which eventually made me irrationally angry that I couldn’t shift the grief, sadness and frustration that filled my days. ⁠

Once I started spending time in the frigid Irish sea I was reminded how amazingly supportive the ocean is. ⁠The salt water lifts you up and supports the weight of your entire existence. ⁠On top of that, you get to briefly be a part of such a vast and wild force of nature. I found spending more time in the sea was such a healing to get outside of my own pain and connect with a positive force outside of myself.

Since it’s gotten colder, I’ve taken to running rather than swimming. It’s something I did as a sport in school and loved it, but haven’t found much motivation to do in adulthood. I’ve found it has helped centre me and keep my anxiety at a more manageable level. It allows me to get outside, feel the cold, and spend some time in my local parks with my own thoughts. I know that on days that I do these runs, I feel less stir crazy and pent up and I feel more balanced and nourished.

All this loveliness aside, I’m still beyond impatient to get back to ‘my’ forests. To go camping with my Oregon friends and family, spend time floating on a lake or a river, to walk amongst the trees. To see the endless waterfalls of the Columbia River Gorge (the highway that connects the towns my parents live in 6+ hours from one another).

My longer term goal is to move back to Oregon and live in nature. To have a tiny house and a tiny farmstead with a big ol’ garden and some chickens. To be surrounded by nature and do my part to work within it. 

Since I moved for university, I have lived in cities. Which has been fun, convenient, and incredibly social. But it feels like it’s time to go back to what my dad taught me — the forest is home.

Ellie McBride is the owner of Calibrated Concepts a custom Squarespace web design agency and the host of the Capable Collective Podcast.