I can barely see through a river of tears. I try to write. Who am I writing for? My whole life has been spent working, waring, caring, sacrificing, answering, obeying, and serving something or someone else. I hate it! I am enraged. I never serve me. I am nothing – worth nothing more than a number. A number in a bank account, a number in an organization stealing my fucking soul, a numerical diagnosis code and a step-by-step treatment plan, the second daughter – just a number in a world consumed by numbers – a landfill of data to which no one attends. Numbers left for waste. I feel meaningless in my pursuit of more – higher status, more things, more money, faster progress, appearing as put together as humanly possible in a world whose foundation is cracking beneath me. Fit in, sit down, shut up, get in line, stick to the script, don’t attract any attention, be your number.
A war within myself.
To be endlessly devoted to finding worth outside of myself? To place my value on a job title or a salary or reputational gain? Nothing that I had created was for me, not even my appearance. I wanted to be loved and I didn’t know how to give that love to myself. I sought everything outside of myself to earn that love, to prove to the world that I was loveable, that I was more than just a number. To prove to the world that I was real. The entirety of my life has been externalized.
I sit at the creek, trying to be healed and held by the one mother that I know will always love me unconditionally, Mother Earth. Somehow She knows I am real. I am momentarily soothed by Her trickling waters, the cool touch of the stream, the mud, the fallen leaves leaving a floor of decay beneath my sneakers. Light rain falls from the expansive gray skies above, anointing me. It’s okay to be ugly here. It’s okay to do nothing here. Be nothing. Achieve nothing. It’s okay to go slow, be unmoving. This place doesn’t care who you are, what you’ve gained, accomplished, or lost. She delights in decomposition and the lowliness of life. It all makes sense here. It all serves. The thorny vines go wherever they please, they prick and grab. The birds dance among dead branches, singing delightful songs of spring. The old sequoia, long ago felled, grows a thick layer of moss as if it’s still alive, still in service to this place. It’s dirty, dark, but somehow comforting and full of beauty. It is dying and yet so alive. It is everything, all at once. She teaches me in ways that books cannot. This is not intellectual knowing, this is the land of soul. Of mysticism. Of magic. I can’t understand it, but I am not required to. I can be nothing here. A place where everything unfolds with no effort, no doing at all.
I am lost. I cry. I cannot control the flow of tears that creates rivers down my cheeks. How did I get here, I keep asking. I am like the earth, a flowing creek of tears, a decomposing self, a floor of rot. How did I get here? I ask again. My head falls into my hands. I am humbled at the feet of my soul. I cannot go on like this. I feel I am barely surviving. I am at the mercy of Life unfolding. I am as vulnerable and fragile as an unfurling fern raising her head to spring. I hate being vulnerable, but now, I can’t deny that anything could break me. Both dead and barely alive, all at once. I have no control. Intellect will not serve me in this place. All I can do is be here amongst this earthly decay. To sit in the mud. Nothing else is making sense right now.
I call in my Higher Self, a guide. I will accept anything or anyone that arrives from beyond. I need help.
She comes to me in the image of a ravenous gray wolf. She’s so angry and fierce. Her teeth gnarl at the very edge of my face, but she doesn’t bite. She shows her anger, her rage, as close to me as she can get. She is making a point. I am not scared. I am too tired and worn to the edge that I cannot be frightened. I realize maybe that’s the point. I am at the edge of death where the veil is thin. I ask her what I need to do. I will do anything to stop this pain. Anything. She replies, get angry. Show your power. Spend your day writing your wound, that is all you need to do. Write it for yourself. These are words that will never be crossed out. You do not have to worry if anyone will find them, they are for you. You belong to you now. Paint it, draw it, speak it, whatever you need to express it. Get it out.
(She/her) is a 3/6 Manifestor, Virgo sun/Sag moon/Taurus rising, writer, entrepreneur, mother, wife, and founder of REWILD WORK Strategies.
Her work creatively blends depth psychology, technology, nature-based wisdom, systems thinking, and innovation to transform the way we live and work. With REWILD WORK, Brittney partners with organizations and leaders to create high performing teams and healthy, effective organizations through custom workplace strategies, fractional consulting, and transformative leadership experiences.
Through her Career Counseling practice, Brittney coaches individuals through career transition and change utilizing mindfulness, dream work, astrology, psychodynamic theory, and acceptance and commitment therapy techniques.
Prior to founding her businesses, Brittney has extensive experience in strategy, finance, product creation, retail innovation, and employee experience. She spent a decade at Nike and has advised and consulted for Fortune 100 companies including Toyota, Waymo (Google X), Walmart, KPMG, HP, and more on the future of work and leadership development. She has also been instrumental in building culture and product ideation within startup teams such as SIY Global, Nature 120 Inc., and The Bloomi.
Brittney is a Certified Meditation Teacher, holds a double major in Accounting and Information Systems from Washington State University, graduate certificates in Ecopsychology and Archetypal Astrology from Pacifica Graduate Institute, is a Certified Teacher with the Search Inside Yourself Leadership Institute, a Certified Guild Practitioner of the Archetypes and Work curriculum, and holds numerous certifications in the health, well-being space, leadership and coaching space.
She is currently a Psychotherapist in training, pursuing her Masters of Science in Counseling Psychology at Prescott College.
Born and raised in the United States and having lived abroad in Europe for several years, she carries a worldwide cultural perspective, an adventurous spirit, and a deep commitment to expanding human freedom.