All Terrain Counseling

10/19/2025

Journal prompt: Canopies can cover you to weather the storm, but much like a plant covered by snow for wintering, it can limit life and growth if the shelter for survival is no longer necessary. In what ways are old behaviors that use to provide survival now not necessary, limiting, or harmful? How can you you thank that part of you, while taking the risk of trying something new?

09/19/2025

08/19/2025

Journal Prompt: Inside you, there may be a part that holds on tightly... to summer, to warmth, to connection, to moments not yet complete. This part may also struggle with boundaries. Fearing that letting go means loss, loneliness, or being forgotten. Boundaries are not walls, they’re rivers and roots. They allow you to flow with life, not against it. They are containers that help your energy stay full, not leak out. How is saying no, without reason or validation, simply like leaves changing to fall? What about this metamorphism is an invitation to work still left to do? What part of you is more comfortable with resentment, then change, or even loss, to gain real connection? Or if in a good, place, what have you left unattended that got you here as wintering approaches?

07/04/2025

Journal Prompt: As I witness the land and reflect on the many ways freedom is experienced or withheld in the world around me, what part of me feels called to grow — to respond, to heal, or to act — and what might that change look like within me or through me?

07/02/2025

Journal prompt: What if someone or something I resist the most is reflecting a part of me I’ve buried. A protector, a wound, a fear ...and what might the quiet patience of an old tree, the stubborn rise of weeds through concrete, or the stillness of a shaded stream teach me about making space for what I’d rather turn away from? What part of this situation, person, or experience could be an invitation?

06/20/2025

Journal Prompt (with greetings and wishes of a Happy Summer Solstice): As the sun stands still at its peak, casting the longest light of the year, I ask: What coping pattern in your life has been overexposed, once protective, but now unsustainable? What truth about this behavior is illuminated in the brightness of the solstice? How might you begin to release it gently, just as the sun will soon begin its descent, making space for new cycles of balance, softness, and self-trust?

05/19/2025

Journal Prompt:

In the forest, not all tangled roots are the same. Some are the natural, beautiful growth of a tree’s design—twisting in their own rhythm, shaped by light, soil, and species. Others are roots grown around a wound—wrapped tightly, scarred by a storm, shaped by survival.

As you sit with the natural world today, ask yourself:

What parts of me are simply different, not broken?

What traits or responses feel like deep, honest aspects of who I am—even if they’re misunderstood by others?

Where, instead, do I feel constricted—like I’ve grown around old pain just to stay upright?

What discomfort might actually be a sign of transformation rather than rejection?

Let the land help you discern: watch how moss grows with ease on one side of the tree, while another side shows where fire once passed through. Nature doesn’t judge the difference between what is and what was changed—it simply responds honestly.

Write about one trait, habit, or reaction you carry. Ask:

Is this a part of my natural shape that deserves compassion and protection?

Or is it a wound-grown pattern asking to be reshaped through healing, even if that brings temporary discomfort?

There is no shame in either. Only clarity, and the chance to root yourself more fully in what is true.

05/11/2025

Happy Mother's Day! Journal Prompt for Caregivers.

In nature, no single tree gives everything. The oak does not bloom like the cherry. The river does not rise to feed the clouds. Each part of the ecosystem offers what it can, and trusts the rest to be carried by your the environment in which it thrives. Nothing in nature apologizes for having limits.

As a mother, it’s easy to believe you must be the sun, the shelter, the nourishment, the answer every moment of every day. But what if your children don’t need everything from you? What if they need a whole, healthy version of you one rooted in care for yourself, too?

Sit or walk outdoors today, and reflect:

* Where do I feel guilt for needing rest, space, or silence?
* What part of me believes that taking care of myself means abandoning someone I love?
* What is the difference between presence and overextension?
* Where in nature do I see healthy boundaries, healthy sharing of responsibility?

Write about one moment recently when you gave from depletion rather than from wholeness. Then imagine how you might have approached it if you trusted that your limits were wise, not selfish.

You are not the whole forest. You are one strong, beautiful part of it. Let that be enough.

**And I hope you celebrate yourself today and every day through this acknowledgement**

05/09/2025

As summer emerges, nature stretches into full bloom—but never beyond its own design. The sunflower turns toward the sun, but it does not chase it. The ocean offers coolness to the air, but never gives up its depth. Everything in nature gives what it can, but nothing gives what it must lose itself to provide.

Reflect on this:

In what ways are you offering comfort, support, or energy to others that leave you depleted or unseen? Or what are you offering that could be stinting another's growth to avoid anxiety or discomfort?

Is your giving rooted in love—or in fear?

What part of you is asking to be protected ?

What would it look like to set a boundary that still holds kindness, but centers truth?

Let the land guide you today. Notice a tree that doesn’t bend too far, a flower that closes at night, or a bird that sings then rests. What message do they have for you about conserving your energy and letting your needs matter?

04/22/2025

Journal Prompt: Happy Earth Day! Reflect on the unpredictability, beauty, danger, and complexity of nature. How do these qualities resonate with your own life and sense of purpose? Write about how you can embrace both the chaos and the wonder of the world around you, finding meaning in the balance between uncertainty and beauty while acknowledging the responsibility we each have in navigating this complexity.

04/06/2025

In honor of Autism Awareness Month Journal Prompt :Take a moment to reflect on your own sensory needs—whether it’s the need for quiet, movement, touch, or specific environments to feel calm and centered. How can you honor these needs in your daily life? Now, consider how, if relevant, you can mirror these needs for your child or children, family, and/or partner in fostering a space where both of you feel seen and supported. Write about a time when you noticed your own sensory needs and responded to them in a positive way, and how you can create a balance that honors both your needs and your child’s.

04/04/2025

Journal Prompt: In the spirit of April Fools this week, Journal on a moment or time when you feel the fear of being made a fool, how can you practice accepting it without judgment? Write about a time this fear showed up, and explore what would happen if you allowed it to exist without trying to push it away. Or what ways you can fully embrace the reality of the vulnerability it took, and the values alignment you exhibited.