On wildness, belonging, and the power of emotional intelligence
This video made the rounds recently, and it got me thinking.
What keeps us from stepping over and past the obstacles that lie before us, even when we so obviously could? Even when others choose to?
A word came to mind during my reflections in Mackay, Idaho, a couple of weeks ago.
Domestication.
In the video, a moose clears a fence while horses watch, seemingly baffled by the act.
Could the horses clear the fence? Perhaps.
Would they? Seems not.
They've learned to live within the boundaries their world has drawn. Or maybe don't know that they can question them. They're domesticated.
And I wonder, how often do we do the same?
Exploring the Edges of Wildness
At Circle Up, held at the stunning Idaho Basecamp near Mackay, a couple dozen amazing women and I explored the edges of wildness.
If you aren't familiar with this area of Idaho, that's okay. Most Idahoans would prefer it stay that way. It is a place of raw beauty. Undomesticated. Wild.
The interface between the wilderness and the space the camp holds is a blurred edge. Wildlife moving through and around the space. The Milky Way leaving me breathless and small. The crisp coolness of fall mornings, lit up by aspens and cottonwoods turning gold along the river.
Within this space, another kind of wild beauty and power emerged.
Women coming together to lift each other up, strengthening community across generations through workshops, creative practices, and genuine connection.
There is an intentionality when women convene to create and participate in spaces like these.
The threads of Circle Up were woven between the vastness of the cosmos and the personal, physical experience of being human. A web of connectedness between individuals in community, between the fabric of women's lives and experiences now and across time.
Something ancient. And something deeply familiar.
Watching and being part of this experience was both unsettling and affirming.
Women smoothly stepping in to care for another's infant. Conversations that revealed how alike we are, regardless of generation or role. And the recognition that so many of the expectations we rigidly place on ourselves have become our own, even when they originated somewhere else.
The Wildness Within Us
Exploring emotional intelligence (EQ) through the lens of an ancient wisdom felt like opening ourselves back up to the wildness that is in all of us.
Before we had to be for others, we had to be with others.
We are social creatures. Belonging has always been essential to our survival, and our capacity to read emotions, recognize social cues, and respond to one another productively has helped us find our place in the herd.
These are fundamental capacities of emotional intelligence.
There is another side to this capacity, though, one that can be constantly activated by the complexity of our world and work today.
Our emotional responses can serve as an early warning system for perceived danger. When we are attuned to these signals, they provide valuable information. But when we give them too much weight, they may no longer serve us.
Am I part of this group?
Do I belong?
Am I in trouble?
Will I get fired?
What if... what if... what if…
Over time, we learn which behaviors are welcomed and which aren't. What earns approval. What keeps the peace. What helps us fit in.
Some of those lessons serve us beautifully.
Others become fences we no longer think to question. We become so practiced at staying within the boundaries that we may forget we have the ability to step beyond them.
Wait, What Is This Fence of Which You Speak?
This is why I believe so deeply in creating spaces where we can slow down, reconnect with ourselves, and question the boundaries we've come to accept as truths.
It's also the power of emotional intelligence.
EQ isn't about suppressing our instincts or dismissing our emotions. It's about recognizing the information they offer and understanding what we can do with it.
We can notice the discomfort that arises when we consider doing something different. We can name the fear beneath it. We can explore what we need and what might come next.
Is this a real danger? Or is it a familiar boundary?
Am I protecting something important? Or am I staying small to preserve someone else's comfort?
Is this fence keeping me safe? Or have I simply learned not to cross it, never questioning its power to limit me?
Awareness creates space. And in that space, we find choice.
We can learn to use emotional information to connect authentically, rather than simply to keep ourselves acceptable to others.
Not every fence needs to be crossed. Not every boundary needs to be broken. Belonging and connection matter, and there is wisdom in knowing when to stay. But there is also wisdom in recognizing when we have traded too much of ourselves for the comfort of fitting in.
When we have traded choice for connection, and our beliefs for belonging.
Unleashing this powerful knowledge gives us the ability to act with greater intention. Rather than reacting automatically to what we fear, we can consider what our emotions are telling us, what truly matters, and how we want to show up.
Perhaps we discover that the fence is just a fence.
And that stepping beyond it isn't about rejecting the herd. It's about remembering that we belong to ourselves, too.
Honoring our whole selves. And, on occasion, running wild.
