Klara’s Story: Finding Myself Again Through Nature’s Healing Power

Note: This is a personal story shared in the guest’s own words. It reflects their lived experience and connection with nature, not a fact-checked report. These stories are held with care and shared to inspire healing and reflection.

Welcome back to Healing in Nature Stories. This series is a space for real, raw, and healing conversations about how nature supports us in finding our way back to ourselves.

Today’s story is a little different — because it’s mine.

My dear friend and fellow forest therapy guide, Jerome Bautista, joined me to turn the tables and interview me about my own journey.

From my early years in Israel, to working as an ICU nurse in the U.S., to facing the darkness of burnout and rediscovering life through nature — this story holds pieces of who I’ve become.

From Russia to Israel to America: A Journey of Starting Over

“I was born in Russia. When I was five, we moved to Israel. I grew up there and moved to the States about eleven years ago. I finished nursing school back in Israel, came here with my husband and one-year-old daughter, and started learning English through Google Translate.”

When I came to America, I couldn’t use my Israeli nursing certificate, so I had to start over.

I failed my English test three times. I remember walking into my first ICU job, proud and hopeful, only to realize how different everything was.

“She asked me, ‘Where’s your stethoscope?’ and I said, ‘Why do I need one?’ In Israel, we didn’t do physical assessments like that. I felt like I wasn’t a real nurse — I was so angry. I had to relearn everything.”

That was the first of many times I had to start from scratch — humbling, uncomfortable, but always teaching me resilience.

When the World Stopped: My Breaking Point During COVID

After finally becoming an ICU nurse, I thought I had made it. I had two daughters, a stable job, and a sense of purpose. But when COVID hit, everything I thought I knew about myself and healthcare crumbled.

“It switched my whole understanding of healthcare. There was so much uncertainty and fear. I felt like I was helping people before, but when COVID came, I couldn’t help anyone anymore.”

I remember walking into rooms where people were dying alone, younger and sicker than I’d ever seen.

“I didn’t want to know their names anymore. What’s the point? They’re just going to die, and I can’t help them.”

I kept pushing — pretending to be okay — until one day I couldn’t.

“I just couldn’t function. I was scared I was going to kill someone. I felt like I was running away from my own body. I had panic attacks, couldn’t breathe, and started having suicidal thoughts. I thought, ‘Maybe this is how it ends for me.’”

Those words are still hard to write. That was my lowest point.

Running Toward Life Again

“When my husband moved back home to help with the kids, I started running. I told myself, if I run and die, it means I was meant to. But if I don’t, it means it’s all in my mind.”

Running became my strange way of proving to myself that I could survive. My heart raced, my lungs burned — and it was terrifying and healing at the same time.

“I was trying to run against this sensation of not being able to breathe — to prove that I’m okay.”

As I ran, I started noticing little things outside — the air, the light, the smell of honeysuckle.

“I felt like nature was sending me messages.”

That was the first time I began to look outward instead of spiraling inward.

The Tree That Saved My Life

“We were asked during a forest therapy retreat, ‘What are trees to you?’ And I just started bawling. Because a tree saved my life.”

Outside my home stood a tree I later named Spencer. Every morning, I’d look for the tiniest changes — a new leaf, a bud, the light hitting differently — and those small signs of life gave me hope.

“I’d look for the tiniest changes in that tree that gave me hope there’s continuation, that something new is coming.”

When I connected with Spencer, I felt seen for the first time in months.

“As part of my forest therapy training, we had to talk to a tree. I asked his name, and he said, ‘Spencer.’ So now he’s my friend out there.”

That connection grounded me in ways I didn’t know I needed. Nature became my quiet companion — steady, patient, alive.

Rediscovering Who I Am

“If I’m not a mom, a nurse, a wife, or a friend — then who am I?”

That question became the doorway to everything that followed.

“I realized I could create the person I want to be — because I didn’t know who I was. I’d spent all my years being who I thought I needed to be.”

That’s when I began rebuilding — not as a nurse trying to save everyone else, but as a woman learning to care for herself.

“Maybe I don’t need to pick up all the ICU shifts. Maybe I don’t need to be with my kids every second. Maybe it’s okay to take time for myself.”

That’s when I found my calling as a Nurse Coach — helping people reconnect with themselves through lifestyle and holistic practices — and eventually became a Forest Therapy Guide.

Healing Through Nature and Beyond

“When you’re in the forest and you’re just being, there’s no expectation but to be. You open yourself to things you might miss if you’re rushing.”

Forest therapy deepened my healing. It brought me into stillness, presence, and belonging.

“Nature brought me back to myself. When I feel rattled, I go outside. I sit. I breathe. I listen. It’s always there for me.”

Now, I create spaces where others can reconnect to themselves and the world around them — especially those who need it most.

“I want to reach the people who really need this — those who can’t afford it or who wouldn’t normally seek this kind of healing. I feel like I’m being guided to make it more accessible.”

This is the work that fills my heart — and reminds me daily that my breakdown was actually the beginning of my breakthrough.

A Message From Me to You

“There is trust that there is something beyond what we can think and see.There is something bigger and deeper around us.Just stay true to who you are, take baby steps, and try new things that bring you closer to yourself.”

Why I’m Sharing This Story

I’m sharing my story because I know what it feels like to lose yourself. To look strong on the outside while you’re breaking inside. And I also know what it feels like to slowly find your way back — with nature’s quiet help.

If you’re reading this and you’re in that dark place, please know this: you are not alone. Healing doesn’t happen overnight, but it does happen.

Sometimes, all it takes is stepping outside, feeling the wind, or sitting with a tree long enough to remember you belong here.

With Gratitude

Jerome, thank you for holding space for me — for asking the questions, listening deeply, and reflecting back the resilience that I sometimes forget I have.

🎥 Watch the Full Interview

In our full conversation, I open up even more deeply about my journey through burnout, motherhood, and rediscovering myself after losing everything I thought I was.

Jerome and I talk about what it really feels like to break down in the middle of a “perfect” life, the quiet ways nature begins to speak when we finally slow down, and how one tree — my dear friend Spencer — reminded me that healing is possible.

We also explore how forest therapy helped me reconnect with my body, find meaning in my pain, and begin creating spaces for others to heal too.

Come join us. Listen. Reflect. Heal.

Over to You

What part of my story resonated with you? Have you ever had a moment in nature that helped you find your way back to yourself?

I’d love to hear in the comments below — or reach out if you feel called to share your Healing in Nature Story.

With love and respect for your journey,

Klara!

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Disclaimer: Healing in Nature Stories features personal reflections shared by each guest in their own words. These stories are not fact-checked or edited for accuracy, but offered as authentic expressions of lived experience, memory, and meaning. The intention is to create space for healing, connection, and the role of nature in each person’s journey—not to verify details or retell events objectively.

Thank you for reading with an open heart.