From Holding It All to Being Held: My Journey Back to Wholeness
For decades, I held space for others. As a psychologist, educator, and helper, I was trained to be steady - to show up, to contain, to care. I loved the work. I still do. But somewhere along the way, I stopped noticing how much of myself I was pouring out and how little I was pouring back in.
Vicarious trauma isn’t something we always talk about. It’s quieter than burnout. It doesn’t always shout. Sometimes, it whispers. It’s the slow erosion of our sense of safety, trust, or hope - not because of what’s happened to us, but because of what we’ve held for others.
I knew about vicarious trauma clinically, but I hadn’t realized how deeply it had shaped me. Not until I found myself in Panama, on a retreat I almost didn’t attend. It was there, surrounded by ocean and stillness, that I finally paused long enough to feel what I’d been carrying. I took a vicarious trauma self-assessment during a session—and the results were a quiet wake-up call. They didn’t shame me. They named something I had felt for a long time.
And that naming changed everything.
The truth is, I never lost my connection to nature. I still hiked. I still camped. I still surrounded myself with animals and felt most myself under open skies. But I wasn’t living that connection with intention. I hadn’t put two and two together - that nature wasn’t just something I loved, it was something I needed. And more than that, I realized the Earth needed me too.
That shift - from seeing nature as background to recognizing it as a co-regulator, a partner, a mirror - began to change how I lived, worked, and healed.
It also led me to ecopsychology, a field that gave words to everything I had always known deep down. Ecopsychology reminds us that healing isn’t separate from the Earth. That trauma isn’t just personal, it’s relational. And that restoration often begins not with doing more, but with remembering our belonging.
One practice that anchored me during this shift was forest bathing. Known in Japan as Shinrin-yoku, it’s the art of simply being in the forest - no goal, no task, just presence. Research shows it lowers cortisol, soothes the nervous system, and improves emotional well-being. But even beyond the data, it taught me something profound: nature doesn’t rush us. It receives us.
In the months after Panama, I began reconnecting not only with nature, but with my own soul’s call. I found the International Ecopsychology Society, where I met others walking this path of integrating inner and outer healing. I also stumbled upon an article by Marian Rios, reflecting on the teachings of Abadio Green, a Guna Indigenous leader. The piece was titled Everything in Nature is a Womb. That metaphor stopped me in my tracks.
Nature as a womb, not just a place of beauty, but a container for becoming. A place that holds, nurtures, restores. That image has stayed with me ever since, and it’s become a guiding truth in how I teach, coach, and create.
Eventually, these threads came together and formed something new: Consider Yourself Credentialed. A nature-informed, heart-led coaching and retreat practice for helpers, healers, and people on the edge of transformation. It's not therapy. It's not just coaching. It's a reimagining of how we live with authenticity, soul, and groundedness, rooted in relationship with ourselves and the Earth.
If you're here reading this, maybe you’re feeling a nudge too. Maybe you’re being invited… not to do more, but to remember more.
You’re not alone.
And if your soul is whispering that something needs to shift… I hope you’ll listen.
Nature is ready when you are.
P.S. If you're curious what this kind of healing looks like in practice, take a peek at my upcoming retreats and sound bath gatherings under the 'Retreats' tab on this website. There may be something there just waiting for you.
With roots and realness,
Karin
