The Roamers Trail

View Original

Ashton Roach

Photo by Ashton

From Roots to Rocks: A Journey of Connection, Healing, and Resilience

A grief therapist, raised amidst the changing landscapes of Kentucky, Pennsylvania, and West Virginia, found solace and healing in the embrace of the outdoors. Their childhood, filled with explorations in "Jurassic Park" – a patch of woods behind their home – and their father's tales of hunting adventures, instilled a deep love for nature. This love blossomed into a passion for climbing and adventure racing, activities that mirrored the therapist's own journey through life's challenges.

Background

I grew up in a few different places. Born in Kentucky, but grew up in Pennsylvania until I was 10, West Virginia until I was 13, and then back to northern Kentucky since then with the exception of attending Penn State for my last years of undergrad. The experience of moving several times, I think, made me really good at maintaining connections that were special to me. It wound up being good practice for my relationships now, because most of my best friends are spread out around the country and yet our relationships are incredibly strong.

Can you tell us about what you love to do outdoors and how your adventurous spirit first took form?

My childhood years spanned the late 80s through the 90s. There wasn’t much in the form of digital media to consume other than VHSs rented from Blockbuster - the good ole days! We had a pretty big yard with excellent climbing trees and some woods. I remember the neighbors and I would spend so much time in the woods. We called it “Jurassic Park.” I spent a lot of time climbing a particular tree we had, and I remember appreciating the smell of the honeysuckle in bloom and the daffodils in our side yard.

I think my adventurous nature came from these years, but also because my dad would always talk about his adventures while hunting. He also spent a few summers in Colorado as a young adult and in other various wilderness areas. He talked about the appreciation he had for animals and how they intersected in their ecosystem. He loves to go outside and shoot his bow, and has even gotten my mom into watching the show Alone. I’ve also been hooked. He still talks all of our ears off about his recreational passions to this day. So, basically my adventurous spirit is in my blood; I just have different forms of adventure engagement.

As a grief therapist, how did you discover the connection between nature and healing?

The solace I found in outdoor activities preceded my clinical specialty of grief. I think I fell into appreciating the seasonal and nature-centric healing metaphors, though, when I read the book Wintering by Katherine May. Or any of my favorite poets’ work - Mary Oliver.

What we outwardly show to others is that we’re in a constant state of spring - our blooms, our potential, our beautiful moments. But it’s real to go through change, similar to how we experience the Earth’s seasons. Life is all about change. When we can accept that this takes place, rather than fight it, then we normalize it for ourselves rather than judge it. There will be winters; there is absolutely no doubt about it. There are also times of growth, stagnance, and so on. So, I think it’s extremely important to help people notice what “season” they might be in, and what it might symbolize or to explore its purpose, if there is one they can make out of it.

On the other hand, outdoor activities are a bit different in my mind. There are philosophical components similar to that above. But there are challenges and risks inherent to using the outdoors as your playground. While the connection between nature and healing can be normalizing, as it points out that entropy is simply part of life; for me, outdoor activities are used more for building resilience in spite of the risks, and for empowerment in spite of any fear.

Photo by Ashton

Can you share with us which outdoor activity holds the most significance for you personally?

My favourite outdoor activity is Climbing. No question.

What’s weird is that I cannot for the life of me remember how I got into climbing. I don’t remember what precipitated me stepping into the gym for the first time, but I also was about to go through a divorce and it’s likely my mind was very much elsewhere. This was back in mid-late 2021, and until January 2023, I would go to the gym very intermittently. I remember looking at the lead climbers and thinking, “absolutely never.” It was already enough that I had a fear of heights, and thus climbing on auto-belays or top rope allowed me to challenge those fears in a way that felt safe enough.

However, January 2023, I became much more devoted to climbing. March, I got my top rope certification, and then July I obtained my lead cert. I’ve considered myself an introvert for most of my life, but I’m now coming to terms with the fact that I might be more of an extrovert who gets “peopled out” much more easily than most. Either way, the climbing gym was a place that I could easily go up to others and ask whether they needed a catch on a route. It’s easier to talk to others when they share the same hobbies, for example. By doing this, though, I started becoming familiar with more people in the gym. It became a place that felt comforting and challenging simultaneously.

I noticed that climbing gyms are places where you might find an engineer that likes to go high up on multicolored plastic holds a few times a week, or a place where a plumber does the same. There’s a lot of diversity within the climbing community, and for that reason, it’s felt like a MICROCOSM OF UNIVERSALITY that truly exists. All for rocks and climbing on them. Who would have thought?! This is gift number one I’ve experienced with climbing. That feeling of togetherness and acceptance.

Photo by Ashton

My own climbing community originated from introducing myself to others, though, and then being introduced to their climbing partners and so on. My own group is professionally diverse, in addition to being diverse in its personalities. We’ve traveled to our home crag of Red River Gorge together, to New River Gorge, Obed… to name a few. We’ve partied together, cried together, danced together, celebrated holidays and birthdays together. This is the second gift that climbing has brought to my life – BELONGING. A curated little family of people you trust with your life.

Rewinding back a little bit, though, in the very last days of 2021, I commented on a climbing picture of very handsome man on a dating app. “This is so cool!,” I said, as I initiated the attempt at casually seeing what I’d been missing in the relationship field. Again, I hadn’t been climbing seriously at this point, but viewing a picture of a person climbing on actual rock seemed very brave, very niche, and very adventurous. I wanted to know more about him, and about what it’s like to climb outside of a gym. So, we went on some dates here and there. We spent the next few years as friends who climbed together intermittently. It wasn’t until after Rocktoberfest 2023 down in the Red that we decided to make it official. So gift number three provided by climbing, has been LOVE and TRUST. A foundation of friendship, a foundation of patience as someone teaches you more about climbing when they’re actually damn good themselves and have every reason to simply be impatient during my learning process. This person has almost always felt like the love of my life, and climbing only enriches it in so many ways. Belay together, stay together… obviously I didn’t just make that up.

The fourth gift climbing has given to me is MORE ADVENTURE! My adventure resume is pretty robust. Last summer I had two solo trips that comprised of backpacking and adventure racing. The latter of the two includes kayaking, mountain biking, hiking, and orienteering. I also completed a century bike ride on my birthday (Earth Day, woo!). I can’t say I ever expected to get into climbing. (See above – fear of heights) But I did, and now I get to appreciate thrill in this additional and superb way. It involves hiking, it involves being with friends that feel like family, and it involves listening to your body. There’s a flow that happens mentally when you’re fully engaged in certain activities. Many of the adventure disciplines in which I’ve been involved have allowed me to sense this. Climbing has taken this to a higher level, however, and it’s impossible to ever be bored of it. I’m also extremely mediocre at climbing, and that might even be an embellishment. But it facilitates an ego departure like none other, and makes me a better person overall. It’s also inspired me to do other things while not at the crag - like draw, when I had always chalked up (yeah, I said it) my artistic abilities as kindergarten level at best.

Lastly, the fifth gift I’ve gotten from climbing, is that of FUELING MY CURIOSITY FOR THE ENVIRONMENT. “This rock is beautiful, look at it!” “Oh my gosh, did you see the lichen on that rock?” “Did you see how red the holly berries were on top of that route?” While one is absolutely honed into the flow while climbing, you can’t miss the beauty of nature when you’re out at the crag. I’ve taken so many more pictures of flowers, trees, and other various forms of plant life while engaged in outdoor climbing than ever before. It’s a mindful experience, especially because my phone often doesn’t have service at the crags.

You start also becoming an amateur geologist, or at least question how rocks form in such beautiful ways. Asking questions about the formations and identifying the plant life make you feel more connected to the environment, and as a positive consequence, I think more protective over it. All of the crags become sacred places where you get to touch the earth and play on its terrain. It makes you feel like a kid again like when time moves at a slower pace. As adults, we’re so often on autopilot. We start having fewer and fewer new experiences and thus cognitively graze over much of what we see, because for most of it, it isn’t novel. But climbing is play, and climbing is learning, and climbing is having to muster our highest level of attention. If you aren’t curious, you aren’t learning the route. If you aren’t curious, you’re not taking in the natural elements of life on the route itself either.

Photo by Ashton

Adventure racing is an intriguing addition to your list of outdoor pursuits. What draws you to this particular activity?

Adventure racing is such a phenomenal combination of disciplines. What I love most about it is how nuanced each race is. For most races these days, each team gets a tracking device, and with this you can watch each team’s route throughout a race. This is called “dot-watching” because each team shows up as a dot on the map and it moves during the race - for the most part in real-time. You can then observe how almost no team navigates the same way. After the race, you can go back and track your own team’s movements and then ask yourself why on earth you chose certain route, or congratulate yourself for excelling at your route choice. But when you’re in the race, it’s incredibly exhilerating and agency-building to know you’re using a topography map and compass - that’s it. You shoot a bearing, you triangulate, you circumnavigate terrain to pick the most energy-saving or the speediest approach to a control point (a control point is a “check point.” Each checkpoint is usually worth one point, and the team with the most points at the end of an adventure race wins, in conjunction with the shortest time).

As far as how it contributes to my health and well-being, I learned to not question myself and my direction so much when I’m out in nature. I remember small details of the terrain, when ironically, I’m not very detail-savvy in my own life. I love knowing how to read maps, and they are basically puzzles of a patch of Earth. Adventure racing has also shown me just how persistent I can be, especially when I feel like I might have nothing else to give. Since you’re not allowed to use your phones during these races either, it contributes to a sense of mindfulness and being one with the environment. Paying attention means collecting more points!

It’s also a great analogy for “racing your own race” and not comparing your experience to that of any other teams’. I’m guilty of comparing myself to others’ successes and failures, like most people. When you witness an adventure race - you can notice that different teams have different goals, so they choose different routes based on this. Other teams are stronger in certain disciplines so might prioritize collecting more points on the bike section versus a paddling section. You have to center yourself on what’s best for yourself and your own team. You focus on that alone, and you start to have to, because most of the race you’re not encountering others. But when you do, it’s amazing and the instant morale boost is palpable! I’ve also never been very competitive during races. With my teams, we’ve framed it as getting to spend a day gallivanting in the woods and essentially doing a scavenger hunt. So this account of my AR experience is based on that too. If you’re on the competitive side, there will be more comparison.

Lastly, you get to focus on each mile you’re in. This is a great mindfulness component. In life we start thinking of what’s ahead, and this is beneficial at times. But I’d heard this idea before that we often try to play life like a chess game, when in reality it’s more like tetris. You don’t always know what you’re going to encounter in the moment you’re in, so anticipating the next step should be provisional at most. Adventure racing teaches you this, for sure, as there have been times when our anticipated route just gets tossed and you adapt on the spot!

Photo by Ashton

When you engage in outdoor activities like climbing, backpacking, or mountain biking, how do you find that it enhances your own mental and emotional well-being? Are there specific aspects of these activities that bring you a sense of peace or clarity?

Engaging in outdoor activities such as climbing, backpacking, and mountain biking can have a profound impact on one's mental and emotional well-being. These activities not only provide a sense of adventure but also offer opportunities for personal growth and reflection. Rather than focusing on the challenges and uncertainties of life, these activities allow individuals to appreciate the purposeful emotions and needs that arise in nature. The following sections delve into the transformative power of outdoor experiences and the role of photography in fostering a deeper connection with nature.

Outdoor activities present individuals with challenges that can lead to personal growth and clarity. The experience of encountering bears during a solo backpacking trip in the Tetons, for instance, evoked anxiety but in a controlled manner. This anxiety served as a reminder to stay alert and focused. Similarly, activities like climbing demand mental acuity and the ability to navigate fear. By immersing oneself in such pursuits, individuals can attain heightened levels of focus and clarity, providing a respite from the often-overwhelming complexities of everyday life. The newfound perspective gained from these experiences can diminish anxiety in non-nature settings, allowing individuals to approach challenges with a greater sense of ease.

Nature photography, particularly capturing images of things in bloom, seems to be a significant interest of yours. Can you share the role that photography plays in your outdoor experiences?

Every bloom is different! This question though reminds me of a children’s book called Miss Rumphius. I didn’t discover it until after my daughter was born in 2017. The main character -Miss Rumphius - has an ultimate goal (of three goals in the book) of leaving places better than she found it. She initially struggles with how to do this, but the idea that solidifies and takes off is that she walks around spreading lupine seeds that of course bloom in their own time. The reason this question reminds me of that story and character is because each time I see a flower, it feels like you get to stare at the most beautiful parts of the earth. My daughter is also named after a flower, so I’m pretty partial to anything that blooms.

Secondly, this point kind of circles back to the seasons topic. Blooms are ephemeral, and they enhance any space when they appear. I don’t think I’d appreciate flowers in the same way if they stayed around all year? I can’t be sure. Anyways, they’re colorful and thus joyful. They’re a reminder to practice gratitude because they symbolize that which we tend to avoid ourselves - that we also shouldn’t expect ourselves to always be in a stage of blossom! There are stages we go through otherwise that are just as crucial under the surface. We probably spend most of our time in non-blossom stages, as much as people don’t want to admit that! But as we go through those “inactive” stages, things are happening. Like bread that sits out to rise. Processes are still happening, and at some point, and perhaps likely also short-lived, a bloom will happen. Embrace it and note it when it does. Don’t fixate on your blooming season being shorter or longer, or more abundant versus not, because that would be missing the point entirely.

Photo by Ashton

As an adventurous grief therapist, how do you believe that connecting with nature can benefit individuals who are navigating the grieving process? Are there specific therapeutic techniques or interventions that you find particularly effective in an outdoor setting?

There have been times when I’ve taken clients outside and we walk around during sessions. Sadly, there isn’t a huge amount of people that are into outdoor techniques like there are in other areas like Colorado, for example. Having said that, I use a lot of nature and adventure metaphors in my work with clients and this is emphasized in my clinical bio so potential clients are aware. Coming back to seasons and how that mimics cycles of life - those are topics I like to explore with clients who are struggling with grief, if that seems pertinent to them or if they lead with similar ideologies. Of course, if a client isn’t into nature whatsoever, we go the direction they want and I try my best to join in with the language and activities they prefer! That’s also fun because I then learn new things. I get to frame those experiences as little adventures within the therapeutic relationship. It’s like a new route I hadn’t travelled yet and it can be empowering for the client to take the reins on teaching me things!

Regarding specific techniques or interventions, I may more light-heartedly throw in suggestions for certain outdoor activities if I think certain clients will be into them. If I could get each person into some form of outdoor adventure, that’d be really neat. But that’s certainly not my goal at all. I can, though, give them ideas of how to use nature in the healing process. I can teach them how it builds resilience, how it exposes you to anxiety that you can then actually put into context. I can provide insight into why someone felt a sense of connection with a loved one while out in nature, and provide a lot of empathy when emotions arise because of that.

Photo by Ashton

The Impact of Nature on Therapy Approach and Self-Care

Incorporating nature into my work as a grief therapist has profoundly influenced my overall approach to therapy and personal growth. Nature's teachings of acceptance, resilience, and interconnectedness have shaped my therapeutic style and deepened my understanding of the human experience. By embracing the lessons of nature, I strive to create a safe and empowering space for my clients to explore their grief and find meaning in their journeys. Furthermore, nature serves as a source of personal rejuvenation and self-care for me. By immersing myself in outdoor activities, I find balance, gain new perspectives, and replenish my own emotional well-being, which in turn enables me to be fully present and compassionate in my therapeutic work.

All of my background and my adventurous spirit have been preparing for a moment of collision. I recently had an idea to make a directory of well-being professionals who place a lot of personal emphasis on adventure themselves. As a therapist, I personally know and it’s been heavily reported in research, that the therapeutic relationship is the most significant indicator of positive change for the client. I thought, “What if I took this in the direction of connecting adventurous professionals and adventurous people that are seeking care of some form?” I don’t know about anyone else, but if I could go meet with a physical therapist who also climbs and thus understands the specific injuries and movements inherent to this adventure discipline, I’d already have a level of trust in them that’s higher than a non-climbing physical therapist. I’d also feel comforted knowing we’d have an icebreaker conversation topic. Same goes with someone who could do my annual eye check-up, or my teeth cleaning, or go over my financial plan.

There are so many forms of care, and we all deserve to have the connections we need in order to make progress in any of those realms. If nature and adventure are in your top values, why not seek professionals who understand this about you too and “walk the walk” themselves?!”

Adventure Resumes is the name of the project and I’m so eager to work more on it.

Photo by Ashton

To continue following our explorer Ashton’s journey or simply want to reach out and say Hi, you can connect with Ashton on the following accounts:

Adventure account on Instagram: @ashtons__adventures

Business account on Instagram: @adventureresumes
Website: www.adventureresumes.com

Help support The Roamers Trail by following us on social media

See this social icon list in the original post