The wilderness within
What the Wilderness Taught Me
There are moments that change you — not all at once, but slowly, cell by cell. As if the earth itself were reshaping you in its quiet, ancient rhythm.
There are moments in life when we remember what it means to belong. To the world. To the wild. To ourselves.
Out there, in the silence of the Highlands, something shifted. I was reminded that we are not here to master nature — we are a part of it. A small part of something infinitely larger, more ancient, more alive than us.
We think we need to save the environment — when in truth, we need it to save us.
Because nature doesn’t ask us to be more, do more, become more. It simply invites us to listen.
To feel the cold air on our skin. To smell the damp breath of the earth. To stand in the middle of life and death, of moss and bone, and remember that we, too, are nature.
We are part of this circle – birth, decay, rebirth. And in knowing this, we can finally find peace within ourselves.
There, among the grasses and rivers, I remembered something old.
That true belonging doesn’t come from being in control, but from surrendering to the quiet wisdom of the world.
And just like that, the wild became a mirror. Showing me who I am, and who I’ve always been.
Alive. Infinite. Rooted. Becoming. Tiny in the giant circle of life. A part of nature.
This is why I do what I do.
Because I believe the wild needs more advocates — and more love.
Something Luminous is my way of giving back.
A way to share what I’ve felt, to keep the conversation going,
to protect what still remains.
If we let it, the wilderness can heal us.
But only if we choose to honour it in return.
Let’s make sure there’s something wild left —
to listen to,
to learn from,
to come home to.
“O to dream, O to awake and wander
There, and with delight to take and render,
Through the trance of silence,
Quiet breath!
Lo! for there, among the flowers and grasses,
Only the mightier movement sounds and passes;
Only winds and rivers,
Life and death.”