Every year, when the leaves turn into the hues of the sun, our family heads up to the North Shore. The North Shore in Minnesota is where Lake Superior meets the vast woods of pines and birch trees. My husband’s family has been traveling to the North Shore into the woods for their annual grouse hunting trip for years, and when he brought me up there for the first time, it didn't take long to figure out why this was a long-time and beloved family tradition. The way I saw it, it was not only about hunting grouse. It was about connection. I loved how everyone would meet to grill burgers and brats at noon after the morning’s hunt. I loved driving for miles, looking out the window at all the scenery, from the rush of water moving from streams into lakes to the fallen leaves whirling in the wind, creating mini tornados on the ground. I let out a big sigh. Seeing it all permitted me just to be and let go. When everyone grew quiet in the truck for a moment, it was to confirm a sighting of a moose who commanded your attention, whose presence was so ever majestic, mysterious, and magnetic. The trails we went down hugged every foot, welcoming you home, while the mud-covered and off-the-beaten paths required speed and an adrenaline rush on four wheels.

By dawn, we all commune back at camp. We exchange laughter and stories of the day’s hunt around a game of intense cribbage, accompanied by axes chopping wood and the fire crackling, followed by slurps of chicken noodle soup and not a ding of phone notifications. We retire to our cabins, trailers, and tents. Bodies spent, souls fed, and lungs full of fresh air, making way for restorative rest. The woods bring you back to earth, literally and figuratively. There is a force in the woods that can chew you up and spit you out. That force can sniff out any misalignments and tension you may hold.

In the same way, we sweat out a fever when sick; nature detoxes us from the build-up and blockage in our lives. In the woods, we remove the glamour, facades, and materialism we are so heavily supplied and programmed by. The time will come when you realize all that is left, acceptable and of great honor, is your character. It is a refreshing stance on what matters most and a reminder never to stop assessing, shaping, and molding your character. Who you are, what you are about, your energy, what you bring to the table; that’s the only currency here. Few places enchant me as much as the woods and make me feel at ease. There is no show to put on, no masks to wear, no race, and nothing to chase. How lucky am I to have been shown the way here, and how exciting it is to know we all have yet to discover slivers of space in this world that make us feel good enough as we are, where we can breathe again. Every year, as we pack up and drive out of the tall trees whose roots are ingrained in bluffs and take one last glance at the crashing waves upon the shores of Lake Superior, my heart begins to ache. I wonder how I survived before without coming here for most of my life. I know I’ll miss this place, but I will take home the gift of contentment for now.