Welcome to this issue of Stumped by Nature, where we notice nature lurking just beyond our screens, curate a list of outside-y events in Austin, and build community with other folks in the thick of the startup ecosystem.
In this week’s issue:
✨ A Modern Misogi
🌤️ Upcoming outdoors events, storm dependent
🥬 Local Farmers Markets, also storm dependent
Let’s dig in!
-Nicole
NATURE SPOTLIGHT
Last week, we talked misogi: an intentional challenge chosen at moments of transition, anywhere from Minimum Viable Product Misogi to Extreme Adventure Sport.
This week: a modern misogi story.
Step 1: See mountain
Step 2: Climb mountain
Spoiler: it’s mine.
And we’re all going to pretend it’s completely normal to Q&A yourself.
What was happening in your life when this misogi emerged?
Several months earlier, I’d made the decision to graduate from my marriage. Divorce was the inevitable outcome of years of attempts at sustainable and collaborative. Even when a decision is right, it can hurt in ways that don’t resolve cleanly. The aftermath felt like temporary deafness after an explosion—the world had a quiet buzz, movements through daily life were a shock of surroundings being both the same and irrevocably shifted. It was an occasion to find reliable waterproof mascara.
There were intangibles—grief, for the creative renderings of a future I’d plotted from the relationship’s origins in 2011. Fear, of course. And a deep, hopeful peace.
As the week approached for my kids’ summer beach trip with their dad, I knew they were safe and loved. I knew I wanted them to maintain that family tradition, to love the ocean, to build core childhood memories. And the howling void of being away from them was (and still is) deeply disorienting. The contradiction doesn’t resolve, and moving forward anyway is the only option.
And so, six months into my shift from full-time parenting to my new world working in venture capital, I found myself with an unfamiliar stretch of unstructured days and a very loud internal question: What do I do with the part of my life that is now fully my own?
It seemed like a good idea to hike down to the river.
What did this quest involve, practically? Why this, and not something else?
I was torn, very millennially, between flying to the European leg of the Eras Tour or taking my first solo backpacking trip.
Nature won.
I embarked on my Definitely Not a Life Crisis Backpacking Attempt 2024 with a loose idea to head to Santa Fe and/or Taos, find a hike, and maybe extend it into an overnight backpacking adventure.
I grabbed a hiking pack off Buy Nothing, packed the instruction manual with my new mini cooking stove + little dehydrated pad thai packets, and realized I didn’t know if there’d be trees for my planned hammock/rainfly/mosquito net bundle.
This alone was a departure: a trip without a plan. An experiment in letting things unfold. A quiet test of whether I could listen to what interested me in real time rather than optimizing the experience in advance.
Less so to remember I’d need to hike back up.
Because my marriage had felt like an emotional desert, I was pulled by the force of symbolism to drive through an actual one.
Long empty roads. Flat expanses. Wind farms that felt vaguely alien. Ghost towns. The slow creep of terrain rising as I tread north.
The unfamiliar mattered.
The long drive was an integral part of the experience.
Luckily, Texas.
What surprised you while you were in it?
I suspected I’d like spending time alone. I didn’t expect to love it. I’m, like, pretty solid company.
Traveling solo, with no agenda, felt like a bright reminder of autonomy. I suddenly had space to tend to myself without negotiating, advocating, or adjusting around someone else’s needs. This felt like a mid-thirties coming-of-age adventure, a return to myself.
A test of competence
96% sure I opted to rip open a tuna packet
How did the plan change along the way?
You know how misogi often involves water for purification?
My liquid came in the form of waking up in an absolute pool of my own sweat.
I’d wondered if I could blame my aches on my hikes, the not-hammockable trees that drove me into a tent, or from underpacking for warmth. All probably true. But.
Turns out pneumonia is a force.
My plan shifted from The Backwoods to a night at a cherry farm in the foothills (including an accidental The Avett Brothers concert) to known medical distress.
Which led to an abbreviated next day hike, and eventually a refuge in a little casita down a cobblestone path. With a bed. And a shower.
The Airbnb was medically necessary.
So was the next day’s art gallery stroll.
Pneumonia Night on the Cherry Farm, Taos, 2024
What felt more true after?
It reinforced that perhaps we really do build aligned lives by making decision after decision, day over day, toward what we value, or at least by saying no to what we no longer tolerate.
Now that you have some distance, what was this all about?
Perspective.
What would you not recommend others copy, and what would you encourage?
Pack an extra source of warmth.
Learn how to use your stove before you need it.
In relationships, ask for what you need early and often. Take information as information. Vitality and curiosity are litmus tests for viability.
If you can prevent accumulating the need for a misogi, start there.
Not to put too tidy of a bow on this, but, timing-wise, I finally was able to gather some pals for a Marriage Graduation celebration last weekend. We swapped flowers. It was beautiful.
Shout out to Hoan-My in the background, doing the important work of admiring Carly’s talents
Choose Your Own Adventure Misogi Reflection
Take this as a journaling prompt, thinking exercise, or a place to put language to something you’ve already lived. Answer as many or as few as you’d like—eight to ten will likely get you there.
A newsletter goal: to occasionally spotlight reader misogi stories as accounts of transition and experiment.
If you work through these questions and feel open to having parts of your experience shared in a future issue, email me at [email protected] with Misogi in the subject line. I won’t share anything without explicit permission, and not every submission will be a fit, but I’m fascinated to read all of them.
What was happening in your life when the misogi emerged? Set the scene with context.
What did this quest involve, practically?
Why this, and not something else?
What surprised you while you were in it?
How did the plan change along the way? What were the pivotal moments?
What physical details still linger? (smell, aches, habit, temperature, rhythm)
Did anyone misunderstand what you were doing in a way that stuck with you?
What role did place play? Would this have been different somewhere else?
What didn’t change, despite all the effort?
What felt more true after?
Now that you have some distance, what was this all about?
What would you not recommend others copy, and what would you encourage?
What’s one thought you keep coming back to from the experience?
What’s a detail/mindset/thought/outcome that you’d like to share that hasn’t come up yet?
Which photos give a sense of the experience?
How can readers learn more about your work/support you?
PSA
Dress your plants up in something fancy to greet the cold front this weekend.
VOTING SEASON
With elections coming up, the last day to be registered in Travis County is February 2. Make sure you’re on the list!
UPCOMING EVENTS
With a wary eye on the forecast, odds are high these weekend events will reschedule.
🗓️ January 22: Tree Planting at Harvey Penick Golf Course
🗓️ January 24: Water Color at McKinney Falls : Materials provided, including waterfall views
🗓️ January 24: Prehistoric Hunting- The Atlatl : Learn about pre-bow and arrow technology, used by ancient civilizations
🗓️ January 24: The Board Walks Bring a thoughtful topic, and get your steps in
🗓️ January 24: Invasive Species Bioblitz: Arm yourself with iNaturalist, and get ready to ID a bunch of plants. Jacob’s Well will use your findings for February’s Great Pull, where the task will be to remove invasive plants and seed bare areas with natives.
🗓️ January 24: Discovery Day: Into the Wood: Learn about Texas trees + check out the Winter Woody Plant Sale
🗓️ January 24: Mountain Biking for Beginners
🗓️ January 24: Plant Bingo : The big prize: plants.
🗓️ January 27: Butterfly Gardening 101
🗓️ January 28: Seed Gathering : BYOSeeds or help process donations for the Seed Collection
🗓️ January 30: Yaupon Tasting at The Red Fridge (Founders only)
🗓️ Through February 1: Fortlandia
LOCAL FARMERS’ MARKETS
Weather concerns apply to these too!
👩🌾 Arboretum Food & Artisan Market Saturdays 11am-3pm
👩🌾 Barton Creek Farmers Market Saturdays 9am-1pm
👩🌾 Lakeline Farmers Market Saturdays 9am-1pm
👩🌾 SFC Farmers’ Market Downtown Saturdays 9am-1pm
👩🌾 SFC Farmers’ Market Sunset Valley Saturdays 9am-1pm
👩🌾 Texas Farmers’ Market at Bell Saturdays 9am-1pm
👩🌾 Texas Farmers’ Market at Mueller Sundays 10am-2pm
That’s all for this week!
In the meantime, I hope you don’t let your outdoor plants die a wintery death this weekend.
-Nicole
OPTIONAL SIDE QUESTS
🪵 Let’s chat about what you’re seeing in this (gestures broadly) tech/nature/Austin community building/writing realm. Grab some time on my calendar.
🪵 Do you need to commission a writer? I’m happy to discuss projects that might make me cry in public/funnel my experiential/existential dread into essays like this one.
🪵 Is this newsletter not your vibe? Forward it to your enemies to make them suffer too.
💰It’s safe to assume there are affiliate links, and I’ll monetarily benefit from any purchases you make. Hooray, capitalism! So far, this newsletter has generated $3.46 of cold hard cash. 💸