Walking the Twin Trail

Confessions of a climate consultant now walking the path of Medicine Woman

The promise of climate policy

‘Collapse’. A book that changed the course of my life when I was deciding how I could be of greatest service to “making the world a better place”.

I was 17 and passionate about nature, wildlife, forests, reefs and mountains. Back then, in 2006, the very existence of climate change was hotly debated on the front pages of the broadsheet papers. I thought, if I was going to dedicate my life to the biggest problem I could find, climate change would be it. Now I just needed to decide which degree to take.

Enter Jared Diamond, and the stories of ‘Collapse’, which examined the cause of death of advanced civilisations past. The opening pages spoke of industrial pollution, in the absence of policy; and how this led to environmental devastation — polluted water poisoning all it touched. Policy, asserted Diamond, would allow us to invite companies into responsibility. With the right policy levers, pollution that could be avoided would be; and pollution that was unavoidable would be remediated by putting tax dollars to good use. It was thus that I was set on the path of policy making.

Fast forward four years later, with a science degree, and a Masters in climate policy I set off to work on the successor to the Kyoto Protocol, firm in my faith in science-based policymaking. This work represented the Holy Grail to me. In 2015, at last ushered in the Paris Agreement. For the five years leading up to this, I had principally worked in the service of British Aid Funders to support island state negotiators, like Foreign Minister Tony de Brum from the Republic of the Marshall Islands.

A diplomatic powerhouse for climate justice from the front lines of storm surges and devastating king tides, Tony had been a champion to me and so many others; seasoned and fresh-faced policy wonks alike.

Every single one of those years, I was burned out, and proudly so. A martyr to the cause, I thought, to keep at bay my “pre-traumatic stress disorder” of knowing too much about the threat of climate chaos. Too much work to do to make any room for rest or joy. My calling, I thought. Burnout, depression, sleeplessness, and a swallowed rage in service of diplomacy were a small price to pay.

Then 2016 saw the arrival of Brexit. Theresa May disbanded the Department for Energy and Climate Change (DECC) within eight hours of taking office. A news item buried so deep it escaped almost all notice. Soon after, we witnessed the presidential campaign promises of Trump to exit the Paris Agreement becoming realised.

A year later we lost Tony.

Aghast, furious and grieving what felt like wasted years, I ‘pivoted’.

‘Let’s see what all this business stuff is about’, I thought. In the wake of the Paris Agreement, perhaps those companies, with power to outmatch most of the world’s Heads of State, could be persuaded to be as bold in action, as they were in word.

There followed seven more years of consecutive burnout, in a vain pursuit of a magical recipe for systems change and corporate coalition building to unlock rapid decarbonisation and realise promises made in earnest by 195 countries. Well, 194 at least.

Burned out on a heating planet

After over a decade as a climate expert, and systems change facilitator, at 34, I found myself numb to any and all joy in the world.

I had spent half my life sacrificing my time, vital energy, and health, only to sit helplessly by as emissions grew at the same unrelenting exponential rate. A mockery in the face of my delusion of control — of the failed promise of policy.

I had learned that I couldn’t “make the world a better place”, no matter how much I sacrificed. I had to save the only life that I could save. Mine. I could only learn to grow into the most loving version of myself; in that way make the world I longed to live in.

Enter Mac McCartney, founder of Embercombe, whose humble and heartfelt stories nursed small flames of joy, hope and self-compassion in me. At Embercombe, I attended The Journey (2021) and The Hearth (2022). Mac, Tina, Tugba, Joey and Stefan, the land and the community held me as I discovered how my time in science, policy and business had desecrated and deadened the magic of nature and community to me. The sources of all that I loved most dearly in this world. Joy re-entered my life, filling me to my fingertips with vitality and well-being.

A calling

It was at this time I heard the calling to be a space holder — a wounded healer — Medicine Woman. I longed to dive deeper than my job would ever let me, to hold space for the healing of the rifts in our human family, which I see at the heart of the climate crisis. The underlying current, driving us to self-destruction — burning down our only home.

It was a calling I did yet understand and lacked the courage to answer.

Backsliding

And though I found such joy in each of those magical weeks, each time I returned home, and the months passed, I was devastated to find the joy ebbing and giving way to terror and judgement; rebirthing disconnection and severing me from what I loved. Severing me from my heart, which short circuited from zaps of pain. Pain from serving in a job that required me to be dogmatically rational, unemotional and disregard all that was sacred; that required me to stifle my truth in the clench of my jaw.

In 2023, these words by Audre Lorde shattered my resolve to hide from my calling: “The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.”

It was then that I began Embercombe’s newest course, The Twin Trail.

The invitation of the Twin Trail is to discover how to walk in the world, so that we are in a dance between the inner and the outer. To be in service to what we love, both through evolution in our hearts, as well as our actions in the world. I learned that these two trails, must be entwined for me to step into any kind of true leadership and power in my life. A means of setting down the ‘Master’s tools’, living authentically and courageously. Turning towards being in service of the medicine that comes from belonging to myself, to my human family and to the earth.

Dartmoor residential

On the first residential of the Twin Trail, we were nestled in the valleys and forests of Dartmoor; each day we became more and more part of the landscape — the river, the forests and moorlands. I learned something of a forgotten universal language of the world. I was endowed with tools and practices once considered our collective birthright. Together, we learned to speak this language with all the beings who share our home: from the trees, to the water spirits, to the sky, earth and the sun.

At dusk, silently bathed in the light of sunset, we were touched by the shadows of a heron’s wings celebrating our group’s ceremony of rewilding and stepping into our power. We made offerings, we connected, we shared the grandest visions our lives. We tended the fire.

Joined in song, our group had begun to form.

In the weeks that followed, the bond between us all grew from afar, as we witnessed and supported each other to bring home the gifts of our new conversations with nature. It was a special and tender time, where we deepened in relationship, finding family and tribe where once we had been strangers.

Reunited at Embercombe

It was with great joy we were reunited for the second residential at Embercombe. In the hush of cold winter nights by the fire, we shared our deepest hopes and dreams for our service to the earth. We learned to raise our voices together, joined in love for ourselves and each other. A togetherness that allowed us to create magic, beauty and delight, needing fewer and fewer words, speaking more and more in the universal language of connection.

Held and witnessed by this group, I could feel in my being what it might mean to be a Medicine Woman. To offer my gifts, to be in sacred relationship to all around me. I discovered, in the eyes of my Twin Trail family, a mirror that showed me the strength that I held within. I came to believe for the first time in my life that I could walk into the unknown in the name of all that I love and wish to create in this life.

Our Twin Trail today

A year later, and each day I am still connecting with my Twin Trail family. We have reunited to share meals and continue to create together. Members of our group have opened their homes, their work lives, their passion projects to each other and we are creating more and more beauty in this world together. Weavings, and fire keepings. Pilgrimages, and sacred rediscoveries of springs lost to memory. Supporting each other to grow in strength, courage and amplifying out into the world the magic of shared experience.

Today, I am walking the path of Medicine Woman in earnest. In all honesty, it feels like walking to the summit of a great mountain to witness the sun rise. All is dark and unknown around me. All I can see, by dim torch light, are my feet, and the feet of those guiding me — one step ahead. Empowered by the love and support of my tribe, I am walking the Twin Trail, one baby step at a time. I don’t know what the future will hold, and if I will ever see the sunrise from the top. And I’m learning to surrender, enjoy the ride, to save the only life I can save.

Today my voice rejoices in speaking my truth and my days are filled with the joy of possibility and a sustained warmth of belonging. The way forward is clear. Nothing will ever take that joy away.

And no matter what happens, walking this woven trail together, we have made this world a more beautiful place. What more could I ask for?