Got Lost in the Bulgarian Forest & Found Myself
This is the recount of how I got lost in the forest in Bulgaria and used self pleasure to save myself and find my way back to safety the next morning.
It started as an innocent, playful day in nature. It was the last day of the retreat for my Applied Epigenetics Master’s program. I had been a part of the online program for the last 18 months, and I was just meeting my classmates from all over the world for the first time in-person in Bulgaria. It was a full week of many deep emotional processes, and on our final day, we had our last mission - a vision quest.
A Hero’s Journey: A Vision Quest
A vision quest is a rite of passage in some Native American cultures involving a solitary journey into the wilderness to seek spiritual guidance, self-discovery, and a profound connection with nature.
The hero's journey is a narrative archetype that follows a character's transformative adventure, typically involving a call to adventure, challenges and trials, mentorship, self-discovery, and ultimately, a return with newfound wisdom and growth.
I thought this was going to be a nice little stroll in the woods for a few hours for our vision quest. I would integrate the wild week of processes we had (alongside the other wild adventures I've been on in the last 2 months traveling the world at this point ), and then I'd be back at the retreat house for dinner by 8:30 PM, which was our planned meet up time.
A Serendipitous Detour
So off we set forth - it was an beautiful day, the sun had finally come out after 6 days of consistent rain. I had hiked alone for an hour or so, singing and flowing joyfully some improvised songs and jingles while connecting with the trees, which is a practice I call FLOWATREE - I listen to the truth of the trees and what flows out of me is part spoken word and song, dance movement, intuitive channeling connected to emotion and the collective presence with a sprinkle of comedic relief here & there.
I even channeled a message that came through as I started singing, "She's going to the river, take her to the river, she's going to the river, take her to the river." I thought cheekily, "What river? I don't see a river nearby here on this trail. Hmm, strange. I wonder why that's coming through. Oh well, we keep flowing, as we do."
I found a nice grassy spot in the meadow, overlooking the glorious mountain ridges. The soft sunlight hit perfectly. I put my blanket down, got naked, sunned my yoni, wrote a letter to my previous partner, reflected on my journey, ate all my snacks, had a poop in the forest, and meditated - listening deeply to the sounds of nature. I felt serene and at peace with the moment. After this point, I felt complete with my vision quest. I considered my poop in the forest to be my hero’s journey adventure crossing the threshold and overcoming the anxiety that I felt and was ready to head back for dinner. So I packed up my belongings and headed home.
I could have taken the same path I came, but something told me to go the other way. Earlier as I was leaving for the vision quest, Moksha, the kind Bulgarian owner of the retreat house we were at, told me that there is a loop I could take to go around and end up back at the house. He gave me very clear and specific instructions. I would usually just take the same way back to play it safe, but there was something in me that day that wanted to go for a little adventure. So I did. I followed the spontaneous impulse by walking into a tunnel of trees and into the forest for about an hour or so. I wasn't sure about the time because I didn't have a watch or phone on me (we turned in our phones on the first day of the retreat). It was just me, my body, mind, and spirit guiding me.
The Descent into Uncertainty
After about an hour of hiking up and down some hills, I ended up at a dead end halt where a bunch of trees had fallen down. I stood there bewildered, scanning for another way, but there was no way around it, and the sun was setting. I quickly realized that I had to make a decision as soon as possible.
Either turn around and hike 2 hours back the way I can, in which I definitely wouldn’t make it back before dark, or …
There were two tree logs that looked like someone had placed them purposefully to signal that there was a path down there.
"Really? Down there? Is the path really down a steep slope into the off-beaten valley of trees?" I asked the trees.
I paused and listened attentively.
The trees told me, "Yes, go down there."
And so I did. "I trust the truth of the trees," was my mantra.
They led me down into a patch of thorny, prickly branches that latched onto me. I was even more frazzled, realizing that this was definitely not a trail, but I had already gone too far down, and I couldn't find my way back to the original dead-end area to turn back the way I came. I had no choice but to keep going down, and I was still racing against the sun.
There were a few times when I slipped on the soft, moist soil from the rain, so it was muddy and slippery. I slid down the hill on my backside, grabbing onto vines and rocks for dear life. I had found a walking stick and was wearing non-trekking shoes, which were these cute platform boots that I had thrifted in Austin a few months back. I may have been unprepared but I was still supported.
A Night Alone in the Wilderness
As I progressed down the steep slope, I could hear the river. I knew there was a river by the retreat house as I had just been for a dip that morning, so I set off to make it down to the river, thinking that would lead me back to the retreat house.
When I got to the river finally, in the last glimmer of light, I realized that the river was flowing in the opposite direction of the river by our retreat house. It was a different river. There are multiple rivers in Bulgaria. Of course there are. Dammit. I felt very far away from home.
I spotted a brick building across the river and devoted all of my energy and the last remaining time with the light of the sun to screaming for someone in the house to come save me. I imagined that there would be a nice Bulgarian family cooking dinner in the house and they would hear me and invite me to come in to help me. But to my devastation, no one was there.
It was just me. And the ever approaching night.
Heart thumping, voice cracked, physically and emotionally exhausted, hungry, with the adrenaline still pumping in me, I accepted that this was going to be my home for the night.
A Test of Resilience
As the darkness set in, I tried to continue walking by moonlight, but I walked straight into a branch that hit me in the face, so I realized that it was probably best to stay in one place rather than try to move around in the dark. So after this, I finally really, truly accepted my fate that this was going to be my home for the night.
I found a plateau of flat rocks right next to the river. “These look like some friendly rocks, it could possible make for a somewhat comfy bed.” I thought.
Surprisingly, I didn’t feel fear about animals or other humans, it was more the elemental conditions of where I was that I was concerned about. It was quickly getting very cold, and I didn't bring many layers with me as it was warm and sunny when I left the house. It also started getting damp as well since I was next to the gushing river.
There was talk about there being Bulgarian bears in the forest, but I learned in one of the previous talks at our retreat that the biggest thing to be aware of was to make sure not to surprise the bears with a sudden appearance. So, I made sure that I was being as loud as possible to make my declaration to all of the animals (and any humans) in the valley that I was there.
A Journey of Inner Discovery
I had many episodes throughout the night, moments of pure prayer flowing out of me, conversations and FLOWATREE with God/source energy/the Universe, surrendering to Him the great father of our Life, and a deep prayer rolled off my tongue into the skies, pleading for a quick save. Part promise and part negotiation that if He let me live from this experience, how differently I would live my life.
There was a point when I felt angry at the trees for leading me down there, blaming the trees for sending me mixed messages, for not being clear, for tricking me. Like the trees could do something sinister to me, could lead me astray. On a deeper level, I was more angry with myself for getting lost.
I cried tears of terror, I wailed grunts of anger, I sighed exhales of exasperation.
I felt despair and longed for a hug from my fellow retreat-mates. I visualized and could feel each person's body imprint from their hug in the warm dining room at our house. How they must be so worried about me. I wondered what they were eating for dinner. What if they didn't even notice that I was missing? “Are they even looking for me? What if they go back to Sofia without me tomorrow? Sam has a flight at 6 PM. How long will I be stuck here?” my mind raced.
I am Going to Save Myself
I started having fantasies about getting saved by a dashing man, how he would find me there, laying on a rock, and we would meet eyes and make love under the stars. I realized how I longed for a man to save me from myself. There was a turning point moment, as I was having this fantasy and screaming at the top of my lungs every 10 minutes, "HELP! I'M BY THE RIVER!"
Although there was a point where I sat with the fact that no one could hear me. The river was so loud, it would likely wash out my voice, and I was so far away from any actual trail. It was so late, and I was going to be the one to save myself.
I thought, “Alrighty then, it's on me. And I can continue to ask for help, scream for help, because that is part of me saving myself. And self-reliance. I've got me.”
I leaned in to the tools and practices that I use every day to regulate my nervous system and keep me centered. Meditation and breath of fire were my allies.
I had picked the ‘Ace of Fire’ card right before I embarked on my vision quest - transformation, power, inner strength.
I didn't even bring a lighter or matches to build a fire, not that it would be much use anyway, everything was so wet. My hoodie was starting to get moist and icy.
So, the only fire I had was the one within my center, self-cultivated. Breath of fire is a Kundalini yoga practice that generates heat from within, through the nose, out the nose, short puffs, and meditation, surrender, presence, trust.
All of my practices, tools, guides, were put into use, and the most powerful one, my pleasure practice.
I had lost all sense of time at this point, but I stopped seeing the airplanes flying in the sky, so I figured it was after midnight at this point. The moon had started to rise above the tree line.
The moon and I have an ongoing flirtatious relationship, activating and intoxicating. It all started with me putting my hands in my pants as a way to keep warm, and in my crotch was the warmest place for my hands, and there, my hands found solace.
I actively changed my perspective into being a playful mode and thought to myself “I trust that I am exactly where I am meant to be, so I might as well surrender and enjoy myself. I leaned back and received the most glorious nature spot I’ve ever been in my life and watched the billion stars twinkling in the night sky as the moon rose.
Self Love Self Pleasure
One thing led to another, and I started pleasuring myself as a way to calibrate my nervous system and tap into the miracle that is my body. I used sex magic in my vision of being safe and warm and finding my way home, with the rushing river gushing besides me. My sounds of pleasure got louder and louder.
For the first time in my life, I overcame the long-term shame of being 'too loud,' of being a disruption, of my pleasure potentially bothering someone else. In this moment, the louder I was in my ecstasy and pleasure, the better it would be for saving myself. The louder I was, the more it literally allowed me to truly live.
I basked in bliss, elongating the experience, I had nowhere else to be. It was just me and the Earth, holding me. In my orgasmic state, I envisioned myself safe, warm, and at home. The ability to self-soothe, to give myself comfort and self-love in an orgasm is one of infinite appreciation, and the ripples and shudders I felt in my body were imprints of possibility.
It was the full spectrum of human experience - knowing that I can access deep pleasure, fear, confusion, perseverance, all at once. I can be in my absolute terror and also bring myself to an ecstatic blissful cosmic orgasm. The dichotomy of my capacity to feel. My body is my saving grace. I can come back to my body as an ally and as a connection to spirit. I can rely on my body as my home.
Communing with Nature in Unexpected Ways
This was a new meaning of communing with nature. I had wanted this in some way, to deepen my relationship with nature. This was not what I was expecting, of course.
Theres a saying from Burning Man, you don't get what you want, you get what you need.
The range of emotions, from absolute despair to survival and holding myself, wanting someone to come save me so badly, and knowing that the only way to get through this night would be to save myself, to hold myself, to be my own savior.
As I was able to finally calm my system, I had wrapped my body with the blanket like a burrito shivering on the rock, I closed my eyes and went into my center - stillness, solid, empty void. And when I blinked my eyes open again, it was light enough. Still dark, but I could see enough. I had no idea how long it had been, time had been warped in that river vortex. It could have been hours or it could have been 5 minutes, I have no idea. All I knew was it was light enough, and I had to cross the river somehow, some way.
Groggy, thirsty, hungry, stiff, I got up and stumbled around, needing to pee and finding the safest place to do so, scanning my options for crossing the river. “Did I have to cross the river, or could I just go back the way I came, hike all the way back up the mountain?”
I heard some sort of machinery, maybe a car coming and going across the other side. I knew that there was civilization across the river, but I had no idea how I going to get there.
Crossing the river was the only option.
Crossing the River
"Alright, Holly, you can do this! How do you want to live your life? Frozen, afraid, and sitting, or getting up, growing some balls, and crossing the river?"
I knew I had to do it, so I gave myself an inner pep talk, putting on my empowerment coach hat for myself, strategized the best outfit for me to cross the river, not in the fashion sense (which is usually my first default), but more in the utility sense. I stripped down to my shorts, took my socks off, kept my boots on, put as many things in my backpack, and wrapped my journal in a plastic bag to make sure it didn't get wet.
I also journaled during this time, and the journaling helped a lot - it cleared my mind, and upon later reflection, the answer came through of how to cross the river in my journaling flow state. The right road. Take the right road. I went in the water with my boots and quickly realized how strong the current actually was. Now my very not waterproof boots were filled with water. I soon realized it was not a good idea to try to walk across the river as the current was way stronger than I had originally thought, it would have been very dangerous to try to walk across the river.
But I continued down the river bank, in the water, to the area that I thought I couldn't pass yesterday because of a fallen tree. This time, since I was already in the water, I was able to walk around the fallen tree. And then from there, I found a trail, and the trail brought me to a fence. A fence! I thought, "Yes, a fence!" The fence had barbed wire, but I managed to pull it apart and went through the fence. Surely, there must be something on the other side of the fence.
From a distance, I saw a small circular building that looked like a fairy house or a little gnome home. I envisioned that there would be two lovers in this house, and they would let me use their phone, and I'd finally be saved!
I quickly ran over, as the golden sun was rising over the mountain ridge, and the dewdrops on the tall grass were shining. Approaching the window of the house, I thought, "This is it, finally, I am saved!" However, the house was locked and empty. I exclaimed, "F***!" No one was there. It looked like an empty Airbnb setup.
Exasperated, I had a mini meltdown on the porch, feeling defeated, angry with God, and helpless. I screamed some more, out of pure despair, frustration, and fear. This lasted for about 90 seconds or so. As I was able to recalibrate once the emotion had left my system, there was a moment of serene peace with only the bird calls of dawn, simply enjoying the beauty of the landscape with the early morning dewy lighting.
God it was glorious.
As my eyes scanned the field, I saw a gate, an opening. "Okay, this building is here, which means I must be close. This is simply a pit stop on the way. I am on the way home."
I walked through the gates and finally found the trail. "Yes, a trail, yes, yes, yes!" I was so happy to be back on the trail.
I am the light, I am the bridge
The trail led me to a bridge, a solid rusted bridge made of metal. The sunlight was shining on the bridge from afar. "I am the light, I am the bridge," I sang to myself. My feet felt secure on that bridge with each step I took, crossing it step by step.
As I crossed the bridge, I walked down the path into the forest and saw a man walking with his giant Rottweiler dog. I was so relieved to see another human finally, and I started sobbing hysterically out of sheer relief. As he couldn’t speak English, and I couldn’t speak Bulgarian, I quickly fumbled through my backpack and pulled out a piece of paper that they had given us before we ventured out, in which the address and phone number of the retreat center and "Please help me" in Bulgarian had been written.
He brought me to his house nearby, and there I used his phone to call Moksha. As we waited for Moksha to arrive to pick me, we didn’t speak much. We sat in silence, I was exhausted from the journey and simply reveling in the present moment of relief that I was no longer in danger, I was safe now.
There was a moment where our eyes met and the Bulgarian man said to me very slowly “Welcome to the jungle.”
I bursted out laughing, he chuckled.
The journey was over, although it had actually just begun.
Life has never been the same after this day.
Lessons Learned from the Wilderness
As I integrate the experience, these are some of my learnings from the experience.
This journey taught me the power of surrender, resilience, and the ability to find solace in nature. Life's unexpected twists can lead to profound transformation, and I truly trust that we are exactly where we are meant to be, always in all ways - even if that is lost in the forest. Through self-reliance, we can navigate the most challenging circumstances.
The lessons from the wilderness became my guiding principles: the rhythmic Breath of Fire and meditative deep breaths sustained me, the echoes of my screams for help and rushing rivers provided a profound soundtrack for deep listening. Positive thinking, rooted in pleasure, optimism, positive psychology, manifestation, trust, and mantras, are my armor. I learned to embrace the full spectrum of my emotions – pleasure, sadness, fear, and anger – acknowledging their presence and the power of allowing myself to FEEL. IT. ALL.
In the solitude of the forest, I discovered the profound truth that only I can save myself, embracing self-reliance while humbly seeking help without expectation. The symbolism of aloneness transformed my tears into courage, creating a soothing awareness that my inner savior would guide me, and powerful affirmations echoed in the wilderness: "I have everything I need. I am safe. I am home in my body. I trust myself."
This harrowing night under the stars illuminated the depths of my resilience and the boundless capacity for self-love and self-discovery, aligning with the archetypal hero's journey where challenges lead to transformation and ultimate triumph.
May this adventure serve as a reminder that we are capable of so much more than we realize, and our bodies can be our greatest allies in times of need.
Thank you for this Life.
This story is dedicated to the trees, the roots of our Mother Earth - I am listening.
I love you.
I would love to make a movie/short film of this story. If you would like to collaborate, please don’t hesitate to reach out directly to me - holly.moly@gmail.com <3