Field Notes
These Aren’t Tidy Recovery Stories
They're real-time reflections from the trail. From life lived between breaking and becoming. Fragments from the in-between, where healing zigzags, where presence takes work; where opening a window can feel like summiting something sacred.
Written from trails, windowsills, and raw moments of reckoning, each note carries quiet defiance. This space is for anyone betrayed by their own body, isolated by illness, or worn thin by the myth of "proper" healing.
Healing doesn't erase. It reshapes. And sometimes, just showing up is the most radical thing we can do.
Blackberries & Grace
I wasn’t ready for sweetness. But the trail gave me blackberries, fog, and a moment of grace.
Connection, Not Completion
On the balance between healing work and actually living.
If You're Hurting Too: You're Not What Broke You
You are not your illness. You are not the worst thing you've survived. You're still rolling and out here that's enough.
The Dance of Memory and Mirror
That day on the trail, I discovered I was carrying more than I knew.
Window Trail
Through open glass, soft light, and the quiet decision to let it count.
Grind-Induced Zero Day
Day four hits like a wall. The reality of living fully with chronic illness.
A Season in Bloom
I didn’t always notice the bloom - but now I wait for it like a promise.
The Quiet Return
Six days off trail. No self-blame, no spiral. Just the quiet return.
Loving Yourself Enough
Sleep better, eat better, move more. Keep the fire going.
More Field Notes to Follow
In stillness. In motion. In truth.
Join us where broken meets whole, where healing moves in circles, not lines. Where witnessing yourself—the trail, the fog—becomes medicine.
Walking Beside, Not Ahead
These trails are stories, not instructions. I'm not here to tell you what you should do or how you ought to heal. You carry your own map. I carry mine.
We meet on the path, trade company, and keep moving in our own directions. If you find something here that makes your journey lighter, take it. If not, leave it on the trail for someone else.
*Still Rolling Outdoors is a blog of peer perspectives and reflections. Your healing journey is uniquely yours. Nothing here should be confused with medical or therapy advice. (More about this approach)*