In writing, my feet must touch the Earth
Jennifer Kleinrichert joins Cave of the Heart and answers 5 questions on self-trust
Welcome to Cave of the Heart, an interview series where writers trust-fall into the depths of inner-knowing, creativity, and the craft of writing. Are you ready to get curious about the cultivation of self-trust, give a warm nod to our child selves, and celebrate inspiration in all forms? Come with us into the cave of the heart.
Describe the setting where you’re answering these questions.
I’m sitting at the kitchen table looking out the south door watching my old friend—one of the mother black walnuts on this 3.5 acres. The yellow-rumped warblers aren’t feasting on the poison ivy berries today, but the white-breasted nuthatch is walking the trunk and the red squirrel is sitting on one of the horizontal limbs, chewing, chewing, chewing. Those black walnut hulls are tough, but the squirrel is skilled.
I sit here in this colorful, wood stove-warmed room and I watch the life that has returned to this land. There are tan-colored stalks of cup plant, green headed coneflower and false sunflower in the wildflower garden out this door. These stalks in their tipping and twisting and breaking offer refuge for birds huddled in the wind; they offer food in their seeds and insect larvae within their stalks; they offer nutrients back to the soil when they ultimately fall back to Earth. This spot fills with magic whenever I am present enough to observe.
Childhood
Q: Given a choice, were you the child who would run barefoot outside or were you inside reading?
I was both, but a barefoot girl first, always. My mom and sister are the same; we all love to read, but we all love to be outdoors. For me, reading is for dark nights or for sitting in the sun or to learn or to celebrate another conservation win. I walk barefoot outdoors in the winter to the mailbox across the rough chip and sealed road, sometimes in snow or ice. I walk the Old Field path after a rain to feel the cool, wet, squishy soil. After a long hike, I strip my shoes off, barely patient enough to undo the lacing and stand on the gravel or pavement or soil. There is something in that touch of my feet with the earth that I must have. My feet are gnarly and I am proud of them. I love reading many stories, but most especially about other land tenders, land explorers and those willing to speak of God within the plants or the trees or the wind. I love to read the stories of other humans that work to remember where we came from.
Influences
Q: How do you recognize when someone or something is a positive influence on your writing process and self-trust? What changes inside you and on the page?
I always write about nature. I am often in the story to connect with my fellow humans, but my inspiration always comes from the natural world. If something influences me positively, I want to write. That desire, the dropping away of all other thoughts, of craving a notepad to scratch on offers me a moment when sometimes the words just pour out into my mind. This always happens when I am outdoors or watching out a window or have been immersed in deep nature for a significant part of time. When I am away from the natural world, I find the font of ideas dry. I don’t think about writing at all. It’s not something I love to do. It’s a response to stimulus and my passion for the world and my own hope that sharing might encourage someone else to love and to care and to pay attention.
Creative Spark
Q: When you get an idea for a new essay or project, what does your first instinct look, sound or feel like?
The idea always comes from an observation outdoors. Usually I hear the idea in my mind at that moment, but lately I find, if I am open and receptive, I get an idea once I am going to sleep or waking up. It’s a challenging time for me, but I usually muster myself out of bed to at least make a note. The words start flowing in my mind in those moments and much is lost before I get to the paper, but I figure if I can catch the essence, a new way of writing the idea will come when I sit down to flesh out the thought. I am a paper person first so my best writing happens when I take a notepad, an open mind, my ideas and go sit outside. If I have to think too much I know it’s not the right moment to write. During the right moments my hand can barely keep up with my brain or heart.
Writing Process
Q: What does your writing life look like today, and can you compare/contrast it to 10 years ago?
I’ve always written to share about the natural world through different forms over time, but right now I am driven to finish my first book, Nature Girl: One Girl’s Journey Seeking and Creating Wilderness. It’s currently 48,000 words and is longer as a single unit than anything I’ve written before. I don’t have a writing schedule. I write when I am at my best during the day, usually late morning to mid day, and I don’t write everyday. It might be once a week or once every other week or once a month. It really depends on what else is happening in our lives because time outdoors is always prioritized. My writing days usually happen when my husband has a field day because we aren’t doing something together at that time and I can think. I am OK with this pace and I love that there isn’t pressure on me. I respond well to an open schedule, not too much human stimulus, and not too much human expectation. Connection outdoors and peace in my heart is essential for me to write. I am tough in spirit and steadfast in moving forward, but there is no pressure to do it, just desire to share, and that makes the difference for me, between writing some or not writing at all.
Resources
Q: What one book, poem, piece of art or chapter of writing would you give to your younger self, and why?
Devotions by Mary Oliver. She writes about all the world in the way I’ve always felt, but never comprehended could be said, especially by someone in the religious and science community. I find the book spiritual, observational, and full of love and hurt, all woven into one. Writing as she does, in first person, I connect with Mary Oliver and find myself rooted in reality, versus a possible world where humans don’t exist (because we very much do and we very much impact the other lives sharing this planet). I found this same way of speaking in my friend, Nancy Stranahan, the Executive Director of the Arc of Appalachia. Steve, my husband, and I were presenting at a conference where she also presented and she spoke my heart in this absolutely intoxicating mix of science and love. Both those women broke barriers for me and completely shifted what I am comfortable writing and saying.
Next up
A conversation with my editor about newsletter first impressions, more inspiring Cave of the Heart questionnaires, and a vulnerable essay about surviving the pandemic with dissociative identity disorder. Subscribe to follow along.
Join us in the comments today
Is there a particular landscape or natural setting that has profoundly influenced your writing, and if so, how?
Do you have any specific rituals or practices that you follow to maintain your connection with nature and how do they impact your writing process?
The journey to the Cave of the Heart is an individual one. How have you walked toward the cave of the heart lately?
Thank you Jennifer and Amanda. I loved your reflections on needing space to write and that if you have to think “too much” its not ready.
So excited to see Jennifer showcased here! She's been one of my favorite nature writers for years and I had the opportunity to interview her and Steve several years ago for a gardening podcast I used to produce. They are delightful folks!