Climbing Out of the River
- Bridget Belden
- 5 days ago
- 4 min read
Your Magenta Monday Magic.
(Above: my magic oaks)
Sometime during the days following January 20, 2025:
It feels like a rushing river of fear. The powerful surge overwhelming its banks, people crying out for help as they ride the muddy, tumultuous currents, unsure of where they’re going but knowing there’s danger in being there, briefly dipping under then resurfacing again.
This is how I picture our collective energy right now. Over the past couple of months, I’ve found myself in the river more often than not, trying to keep my head above water while swimming frantically, desperately, for shore. Sometimes I make it, feeling the cool muddy banks under my fingertips, under my fingernails, taking a deep breath, only to have it slip away as I get sucked back in and under.
It’s a delicate dance. On the one hand, I don’t want to have my head in the sand, but on the other I didn’t want to be hopelessly immersed in the nonstop terrifying drama of it all. Yet despite my attempts to be discerning about my news intake, there were times when all it took was one headline, almost accidentally seeping into my awareness, and I was gone.
That relentless magnetic pull of fear drew me back towards the river.
It was during this early period that I woke up one morning with that tight feeling in my chest - the newly familiar anxiety greeting me as I rose. I contemplated how best to engage with it, and paused for a moment feeling myself called into nature for a walk in my favorite park.
Winding my way through the familiar landscape, taking in the birds flitting about and the ground squirrels dashing across my path before diving into their underground safe houses, I started to breathe again. I was led to my ‘magical glen’ - a grouping of centuries old oak trees standing sentry along the edge of an open field most often found hosting birthday party bounce houses and their requisite children, screaming with delight.
I approached and put my hands on the trunk of the largest - and I imagine the wisest - of them. Almost instantaneously I felt the anxiety and fearful energy being drawn from my body, through my hands, into the knobby bark, traveling through the trunk and down, down, down into the earth where I envision it was dispersed among the root systems of hundreds of trees and alchemized into cosmic compost.
My eyes filled with tears of gratitude as I heard a voice comforting me ‘leave it here my darling. Rest easy.’
I cannot express the weight I left with those trees that day. It was a turning point for me that allowed me to release the fear that held me captive, so that I could find my center. It was because of those trees that I was able to slowly inch further and further up that slippery bank, until I became firmly planted on shore. The space between me and the river allowed me to be available to throw a lifeline to anyone who needed it.
That opportunity came sooner rather than later when I received a text on my early morning walk a few days later.
It read:
‘Should I be preparing a go bag?’
‘This administration is really scaring me.’
The message was from my 29-year-old daughter who lives in Brooklyn.
At first I felt that familiar call to action any parent feels when their kids sound the alarm which was exacerbated by my own fears. My muscles tightened. My breathing accelerated.
But then I paused. I took a deep breath. I grounded myself as I remembered the trees and that I was safe. From that place, I could acknowledge her fear without slipping in alongside her. I shared my perspective that stemmed not from panic and anxiety but from a sense of hope.
I’ve been on this personal growth journey for over 20 years, and these past few months have tested me like never before. I have been called to show up in ways I never thought possible. Although I realize there isn’t a finish line to indicate that we are ‘done’, I thought I had the tools I needed to pull me out of those tough situations.
It turns out I do, they just required a little bit of sharpening. As is so often the case, the universe challenged me to reach ever deeper, summoning the courage and the strength to push my edges just a little more.
The tools I am reaching for more and more these days are those that help me cultivate peace. A deep inner peace that allows me to remain centered in the face of whatever comes up. These include painting, practicing meditation, listening to birdsong, going on morning walks, playing Mahjong, and connecting with family and friends. And yes, communing with trees.
I reach for those things that empower me to live in alignment with my values, like choosing to leave Meta and Amazon because I don’t agree with their business practices, and seeking out and supporting small businesses that are women and/or BIPOC owned.
I donate to causes that resonate with me and take action to further my fundamental beliefs that each of us is entitled to live a life of freedom. One that matters to us and is not dictated by someone else’s opinions about who we should or shouldn’t be or how we should or shouldn’t live.
As I write this, thanks to my daily practices, I am standing firmly planted on shore far enough away to witness the river without becoming one with it. Inevitably, when those headlines sneak in despite my best efforts, and that river beckons, I channel the sturdy wisdom of the old oaks, pausing to ask what I need at that moment.
And I'm going to do that.
Living BRIGHTer is...
B - Be Brave
R - Cultivate Relationships
I - Live with Intention
G - Practice Gratitude
H - Prioritize Health
T - Live your Truth
What is Magenta?
The color magenta is one of universal harmony and emotional balance. It is spiritual yet practical, encouraging common sense and a balanced outlook on life. Magenta helps to create harmony and balance in every aspect of life; physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.
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