MOVING MOUNTAINS

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Just Keep Writing

 Trigger Warning: This post is a personal story and contains discussion of suicide, grief, and loss. Some readers may find parts of this story emotionally difficult. Please read gently and step away if you need to.

If you or someone you know is struggling or in crisis, call or text 988 to reach the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. Support is available 24/7.

It was May 26, 2017, and I was home for Memorial Day weekend on a much-needed long break from graduate school. As was typical when I came home, I was working on plans to see my high school friends.

I come from a small town in Massachusetts with a very tight-knit community. I know that for many people, high school friendships can fade over the years, but in our town, and in my friend group, it is common for those relationships to last a lifetime. Even when long gaps of time pass between seeing one another, once we are reunited, it feels as if nothing has changed.

My friends and I were particularly close. We had all played football together at our local high school. Our football program was, and still is, one of the best public school programs in Massachusetts. I do not share that to brag. I share it because it gives context to the experiences we shared together and to the foundation of what became an unbreakable bond.

Weightlifting sessions at six o’clock in the morning. Long conditioning sessions in the hot summer sun. Sleepaway camp in the hills of the Berkshire Mountains. And, fortunately for us, many Friday night wins, league championships, and a coveted state championship victory.

Through the hard work, the wins, and the losses, whether we knew it at the time or not, we were developing a deep emotional connection with one another. We supported each other at our lowest, celebrated each other at our highest, and, above all else, believed in one another and stood behind one another no matter what the game, or life, threw at us.

That bond, built by pushing ourselves to our limits alongside one another and in service of something bigger than ourselves, became the foundation for friendships that would last a lifetime. So anytime I was home, one of the first things I tried to schedule was time with my friends.

Although we were all deeply committed to one another, as with most busy young men in their twenties, it was hard to get our schedules aligned. I remember trying to organize dinner plans in our group chat. Some of us were available, some were not, and some were not responding.

One of my friends was especially insistent that we meet up that night. I remember thinking, “Wouldn’t it be better to wait until we can all get together?” But he said he was going to the local Irish pub in the center of town with his girlfriend, and he expected us to meet them there.

Although I was not sure if my other friends would make it, I hopped in my car and headed downtown.

I remember arriving at the restaurant and seeing him and his girlfriend sitting closely next to one another in a booth. They were chatting, laughing, and my friend was shining that big, doofy grin everyone knew him by. I sat down with the two of them, and for a little while, it was just the three of us.

At the time, I remember my mind drifting, wondering if any of my other buddies were going to show up. But looking back on it now, given how this story plays out, I will always be grateful for those first 30 minutes of that night when it was just me, my buddy, and his girlfriend.

Eventually, another friend from our group showed up. We hung out, ate some food, had a few drinks, and caught up. My friend and I made plans to go to the gym together in the morning. Even after all those years, we still had the itch to get together and push ourselves physically, and we still got the best out of ourselves when we did it together.

We left the pub, gave each other a big hug, said “I love you,” which was a common practice in our friend group, and said, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

On the morning of May 27, 2017, I woke up early, gathered my stuff for the gym, hopped in my car, and headed out. I arrived on time, but my friend was not there yet. I did not think twice about it. He was not exactly Mr. Punctuality. So I did what I usually did: started stretching and warming up while keeping a close eye on the door and waiting for him to arrive.

As I was lunging around the gym with my big overhead Beats headphones blaring, my phone began to ring. It was another friend from our group. At that point, I was pretty locked in and focused on my workout, and as far as I knew, this friend was not planning to join us, so I clicked ignore.

The phone rang again.

Two calls in a row was unusual. Something was up.

I remember answering the call with the sound still connected to my headphones through Bluetooth. My friend was screaming, and I could not make out the words. I think I said something like, “Okay, okay, slow down.” Eventually, through the crying and screams, I heard him say, “You need to meet me at [our friend’s] house right now.”

I did not think twice. I hung up the phone, grabbed my belongings, and hopped in my car. I remember speeding out of the parking lot and running a few red lights, my mind focused only on getting there as fast as possible.

My friends were in trouble and needed my help.

While driving, I called my mom from the car. I told her I had received a distressing call from a friend, that I was headed over to meet them at my other friend’s house, and that I was not sure what was going on or when I would be home. At the time, one of our friends, the friend whose house I was driving toward, had a couple of health issues going on, and I was worried something had happened to him.

When I arrived at my friend’s house, I pulled down the long driveway and saw him and his mom standing in the front yard. At first, I felt relief. As I mentioned, this was the friend who had some health issues, and to see him upright and seemingly okay put me at ease.

I got out of my car and immediately asked, “Hey man, what’s going on?”

He did not know. He told me he had also received a distressing call from our friend but did not know what had happened.

Moments later, the friend who had called us came barreling down the driveway in his car. He got out, fell to his knees, and said, “[Our friend] is dead.”

I remember denial sweeping through me faster than a lightning bolt.

What? No way. That can’t be. We were just with him last night. He was going to meet me at the gym this morning. This has to be misinformation.

But my friend in front of me was clearly distraught and in a tremendous amount of pain. We hugged him and listened. Once he calmed down enough to talk, we began asking questions.

And then he said it.

“He killed himself last night.”

Then, silence.

My other friend and I paused and looked at each other. There was something about what he said that shifted us from questioning the news to reckoning with it.

Still, we kept asking questions. Despite the pain and conviction in his voice, it was still difficult to believe. But slowly, the gravity of the situation began to weigh in.

We decided that the three of us would drive over to our friend’s house to check in. It almost felt like we had to see it for ourselves.

I remember the three of us packing into my friend’s little sedan. We pulled out of the driveway, and when we got about a mile down the road, it really started to hit me. I felt anger and rage surge through my body. Through tears and a hoarse yell, I said to my friends in the car, “Don’t ever do this. If you ever need anything, just call. Okay? Just call.” My friends just continued to shed tears of their own.

Our friend who had passed away lived only a few miles up the road, and before we knew it, we were pulling into the driveway. There were more cars than usual, and one of his sisters was on the front porch talking to someone. We parked, opened the door, and slowly started approaching the house. His sister saw us, began crying, and came over to greet us with a hug.

It was real.

It had happened.

My friend, who had been smiling, laughing, and hugging me less than 12 hours earlier, was gone. He had taken his own life.

As I sit here and write this on May 26, 2026, nine years after my buddy’s passing, I am putting written words to the memory of this day for the first time. Each year, when this anniversary comes up, I try to lean into the emotion that this day holds and do something in his memory to make meaning of his passing.

In past years, I have typically gone out into the woods to reflect and be close to my friend. Solitude in nature is where I feel closest to his presence. In addition to that, I will usually post something on social media as a gentle reminder of a great life that was lived, the great loss we experienced, and what we can all do each day to honor that loss by living our own lives more fully.

Although I still plan to go outside and be with him over the course of the next day, this year I thought I would write a blog post and reflect on this event in my life, the lessons I learned, and how I see those lessons overlapping with some of the work we do here at Mountain Valley.

Fear

At the time, I do not think I would have ever looked at this event, my own experience, or the presumed experience of my friend through the lens of fear and anxiety. Now, from where I stand, I cannot help but see it that way.

There was fear he must have been feeling. Although we will never know for sure what he was experiencing, he was clearly struggling on a deep level and felt like he could not let anyone know. His best friends did not know. His girlfriend did not know. His family did not know.

For years, I struggled with ruminating over what my friends and I could have done differently to make him feel more comfortable coming forward. Was it our “macho bro” culture that kept him from feeling like he could be vulnerable? Did we make jokes or comments at times that made him think it was unsafe to share these things?

Having worked in the mental health field now for almost a decade, I have come to accept that while there may always be things we wish we had seen or done differently, we cannot fully know or control the fear, pain, or inner world another person is carrying.

Every day, I work with young people who are deeply afraid of what others think of them, even while surrounded by people who love, support, and accept them. That does not mean their environment does not matter. It does. The people around us can provide safety, reassurance, compassion, and support. But fear often lives beneath the surface, rooted in the private places of our minds, in the stories we tell ourselves about who we are, whether we are enough, and whether we are safe to be truly known.

Others can help create the conditions for healing, but they cannot do the healing for us. At some point, each of us has to begin bringing those fears into the light.

I also think about the fear my friends and I faced that day. I think about our decision to hop in the car and drive over to our friend’s family’s house, knowing that some tragedy may have just taken place. We did not blink. We did not think twice. It is incredible how brave we can be in the face of uncertainty when it involves something, or someone, we deeply value.

Lastly, I think about the subsequent fear that I, and many of us who went through that experience, have lived with since that day.

For me, it was my first time really confronting death. I had lost people I knew, but no one I was that close with. It was the first time I was forced to come to grips with my own mortality and the mortality of the people I love.

Although that may sound morbid, it has also been one of the most tremendous gifts I have ever been given. Because if you lean into fear far enough, you may find yourself standing in love and gratitude.

I am afraid of losing my life. I am afraid of losing those close to me. And because of that, I take more time to appreciate the subtle beauties of the people, places, and things that make up my day-to-day life.

This was the first time I realized that fear, although unpleasant to feel and often unruly in the mind, can also be a catalyst for recognizing and reveling in what matters most. And in many ways, that connection between fear, values, and meaningful living is at the heart of the work we do at Mountain Valley.

Making Meaning of Struggle

The idea that fear can help us identify and lean into our values is connected to something bigger, something we see every day at Mountain Valley: life’s hardest moments can sometimes become part of life’s most meaningful growth.

In the moment of struggle, no one wants to hear that one day this pain may become the start of something beautiful. In fact, when others try to point that out too soon, it can feel obnoxious, dismissive, and out of touch.

But with time, space, and deep reflection, we may begin to see how pain can shape us in meaningful ways.

None of that makes the loss easier, and none of it makes his death make sense. But losing my friend in this way became part of what ignited my passion for entering the mental health field. That passion led me to take a job at a psychiatric hospital during the end of my graduate school years. It was during that job that I came across the Occupational Therapy Mental Health Fellowship program at the University of North Carolina. At UNC, I trained alongside some of the best mental health occupational therapists in the country, and I met a beautiful young colleague who I am now lucky enough to call my wife.

My work at UNC inspired me to seek out more holistic, nature-based settings for healing, which eventually led me to Mountain Valley.

And now, as I sit here typing these words, I have an incredible job at a tremendous institution, a beautiful wife, two loving kids, and a home in the forests of Vermont.

Do I wish my friend were still alive? Do I wish he had been at my wedding? Do I wish my kids had one more “uncle” who would have loved them more than anything?

Of course I do.

But I can honestly say that I do not know where I would be, or what I would be doing, if this event had never happened in my life.

All this to say: we never know the ripple effects that a moment of struggle and immense pain may have down the line. It is hard to judge the meaning of a chapter when you are deep in the throes of the events unfolding within it.

But if you keep reading, and the story continues to play itself out, you may be surprised by the meaningful role that chapter played in the arc of the story. You may be surprised by the role that chapter played in the development of the main character. And maybe, just maybe, you may look back on that dark chapter with more appreciation for the role it played in getting the story to where it is now.

For our youth and families at Mountain Valley, many are deep in the chapter of struggle.

And for many of you reading this, you may be too.

But as we close out May, Mental Health Awareness Month, I encourage everyone to keep doing one thing:

Pick up the pen of your life and just keep writing.

You never know where the story may lead.

MOVING MOUNTAINS

Resources

Anxiety and School Refusal: A Cross-Program Panel Discussion

Watch the recording of our interactive panel on anxiety and school refusal, featuring Executive Director Zack Schafer, Amy Killey of Weaver and Associates, and Dr. Dina Nunziato of the Anxiety Institute. This open conversation explores how to recognize school avoidance early, respond effectively, and understand when more intensive support may be needed.

Whether you’re a parent, clinician, or educator, the discussion offers practical insights and real-world strategies for helping students reconnect with school, peers, and life.

MOVING MOUNTAINS

Resources

Mountains Beyond Mountains: The Hero’s Journey

A few years ago, we implemented a three-phased model to guide and structure the treatment experience at Mountain Valley. The purpose of this restructuring was twofold:

  1. To improve the fidelity of the care we provide by delivering Exposure and Response Prevention (ERP) therapy — and other core therapeutic content — through an evidence-based, standardized process.
  2. To create a therapeutic narrative with a clear “beginning, middle, and end” that helps guide residents, their families, and our care team as they navigate the often unpredictable journey of treatment.

To support this second goal, we chose Joseph Campbell’s “Hero’s Journey” as the framework for our therapeutic narrative. The Hero’s Journey naturally reflects so much of what Mountain Valley is about: stepping outside of your comfort zone into the unknown, confronting challenges and fears head-on, and emerging from that process as a more integrated and actualized version of yourself. This arc mirrors both the practical process of exposure therapy and the profound transformation we witness in the young people who complete our program.

As the primary creator of this three-phased model based on Campbell’s framework, I see this heroic journey unfolding in each resident’s experience. But rarely do I hear it reflected back to me so clearly by residents or their families.

At a recent graduation ceremony, I was fortunate enough to experience exactly that. A father, seated beside his wife and daughter and across the room from his son on graduation day, stood to deliver a heartfelt speech. With tears in his eyes, a lump in his throat, and his family’s arms around him, he spoke about the Hero’s Journey his son had been on.

His words were deeply validating — he so eloquently articulated the parallels between his son’s process and the journey Campbell described. But more than that, his speech was profoundly moving. To witness a father express to his son that he truly is the hero he always believed he could become is something difficult to put into words.

So rather than attempt to describe it further, we’re honored to share his speech here — with his permission — so that others, too, can bear witness to the life-changing transformations that take place within the Mountain Valley community.


Phin

There is a Haitian Creole saying, “Dèyè mòn gen mòn.” which  translates roughly as “Beyond mountains, there are mountains.” Today we gather not just to mark an ending, but to witness a profound transformation — a completion of one heroic cycle and the beginning of another.

When Phin first arrived at Mountain Valley, he was answering what Joseph Campbell called “the call to adventure.” But this wasn’t the adventure any of us would have chosen. It was a call born from struggle, from the recognition that the ordinary world  — our world of schedules and expectations and well-meaning plans  — had become uninhabitable for him. Like all true heroes, he had to leave everything familiar behind to find what he needed most.

In those early days, I’ll admit, I saw this departure through  the lens of my own fear. I grieved for dreams I had crafted for him, dreams that perhaps said more about my own longings than his true calling. But heroes’ journeys rarely unfold according to the maps drawn by those who love them from a distance.

What I’ve witnessed over these months is Phin’s passage through what Mountain Valley teaches us are the three sacred phases of transformation. In the Departure, he faced the terrifying truth that his old ways of being were no longer sufficient. He had to shed the armor of perfectionism that had become a prison, release the strategies that once protected him but now isolated him from life itself.

During the Initiation — the trials and revelations that form the heart of every hero’s journey — I watched him discover strengths he never knew he possessed. With the guidance of staff who became wise mentors, and alongside fellow travelers who understood his struggles in ways that even family cannot, he learned to sit with discomfort instead of fleeing from it. He began to see his neurodivergent mind not as a liability, but as a different kind of wisdom. Most remarkably, he started to trust his own capacity for healing.

And now we celebrate the Return — not because the journey is over, but because he has gained something precious to bring back to the world. Phin returns to us transformed, carrying new tools, deeper self-knowledge, and perhaps most importantly, the unshakeable understanding that he can navigate whatever challenges lie ahead.

To the extraordinary staff of Mountain Valley: you have been  more than clinicians and counselors. You have been the wise elders every hero needs — those who can see potential when the hero himself cannot, who offer both challenge and sanctuary, who know exactly when to push and when to simply witness. You helped Phin remember that he is both the author and the protagonist of his own story.

To Phin’s fellow residents: you have been his companions on the quest, his band of brothers and sisters who shared the trials and celebrated the victories that only you could truly understand. You have shown him that healing happens in community, that vulnerability is a form of courage, and that we all rise together.

But here’s what I’ve learned about the Hero’s Journey that no book quite captures: it never really ends. Life offers us countless opportunities to answer new calls to adventure, to face fresh trials, to return again and again with deeper wisdom. What changes is not the presence of challenge, but our relationship to it. What transforms is not the absence of struggle, but our  capacity to meet it with courage, curiosity, and hope.

Phin, as you prepare to leave this sacred mountain and return to the valley of everyday life, know that you carry within you everything you need. You have proven your bravery. You have demonstrated your commitment to growth. You have shown us all what it means to transform suffering into strength.

The story you have written here at Mountain Valley will become the foundation for every future chapter. And as your father, I am filled with a pride that goes beyond words — not because you have arrived at some imagined destination, but because you have shown the courage to keep traveling, to keep growing, to keep becoming who you were always meant to be.

This ceremony today is not just a celebration — it is a recognition of the sacred work you have done and a blessing for the sacred work that lies ahead. You are ready for whatever comes next, because you now know the deepest truth of the Hero’s Journey: you already contain everything you need to write a life of meaning, connection, and joy.

The adventure continues, and we will be cheering you on every step of the way.

MOVING MOUNTAINS

Resources

Captured: Mountain Valley Reunion Moments

On August 2, 2025, we welcomed more than 100 Mountain Valley alumni and their families to Plainfield, New Hampshire. As we gathered on a beautiful summer day, we celebrated the life-changing experiences made at Mountain Valley and reconnected former residents from all over the country.

A snapshot of a few of our favorite moments from the reunion:

MOVING MOUNTAINS

Resources

From Fear to Love: The Mountain Valley Reunion 2025

August 2, 2025, was a beautiful mid-summer day in Plainfield, New Hampshire. The sky was clear, the sun was shining, and the Mountain Valley campus buzzed with energy. It was the day of our annual Mountain Valley Reunion, and more than one hundred people gathered to reconnect and celebrate the life-changing experiences they’ve had through our program.

Alumni residents and their families flew in from across the country. Current residents spent the morning rounding up farm animals for a petting zoo and hanging “Welcome Back!” signs around campus. By noon, the open field behind the Carriage House dorm was filled with laughter and joy — alumni, parents, former and current staff, and family members mingled, reconnecting, and celebrating together.

It was a day full of emotions — good ones — but even good emotions can be overwhelming.

“How did we get all these people to spend a sunny summer afternoon in the field of a residential treatment center? How did we get so lucky? What did we do to deserve this?”

These questions swirled in my mind as I walked the now-quiet campus hours after the festivities ended. Searching for an answer, I did what we encourage our residents to do: I asked myself, “What am I feeling?”

Before the question had fully formed, my body answered: love.

Love is what I was feeling. Love is what made the day what it was.

What Is Love?
Love is a powerful word and a complex emotion — one we use so often that we risk losing sight of its meaning.

Like all emotions, love is both a biological and psychological process. Biologically, it’s a cocktail of hormones — oxytocin, dopamine, vasopressin, and endorphins — the perfect “feel-good” mix. Psychologically, love shapes our thoughts and behaviors and influences the development of our relationships and attachments.

But is love just biology and psychology? Or is it something bigger? Philosophers have debated it for millennia. Plato called love “a desire for beauty and truth.” Aristotle saw it as a virtue, essential to living a moral and good life. Kierkegaard described it as a choice — a commitment that demands self-sacrifice.

No matter the lens — science, psychology, or philosophy — love’s impact on the human experience is profound and undeniable.

So how did we get here? How did strangers from different walks of life come together and find themselves in a place of love? Maybe it begins where it all started: in a place of fear.

The Relationship Between Love & Fear
As an anxiety-focused program, fear is what brings people to our door. It can steal the spark from a young person’s life, causing them to retreat, avoid, and withdraw from the world. Parents often watch helplessly as their child’s life grows smaller and their own fears grow larger until the entire family system is engulfed in fear’s shadow.

So, what do we do? How do we find the light again? And where does love fit into all of this?

Love Reduces Fear
Biologically, love is the antidote to fear. It calms the brain’s alarm system, releasing hormones that reduce stress and foster connection. That sense of connection is at the heart of what we do.

As an exposure-based program, we walk alongside anxious young people and their families as they lean into what scares them most. Through this process, they build resilience, regain confidence, and rediscover their passion for life. But their bravery begins where love can be found, so it’s our job to provide it.

Love Transforms Fear
Love doesn’t just reduce fear — it transforms it. When we are in love — with a person, place, thing, or idea — we are more willing to face our fears. As psychologist Viktor Frankl said, “A man with a why can bear almost any how.” Love gives us something bigger than ourselves to be brave for. In its most authentic form, it can turn fear into courage.

If our mission is to help young people turn fear into courage, love is a key ingredient. We help them find it in the people, places, and things around them. By tapping into what they love, we tap into their strength — harnessing it for meaningful change.

Love Is Found Through Fear
Love isn’t just a tool to reduce or transform fear — it’s often the result of facing it. Embracing what scares us — talking about it or confronting it in real time — requires vulnerability. It requires us to be seen for who we truly are. In the right context, with the right support, that vulnerability often leads to profound connection and deep acceptance. This is the primary basis for experiencing love.

So although it’s easy to see fear as a barrier to love, it can also be a bridge — and when a community faces its fears together, it often discovers deep love and connection on the other side.

A Day of Love
Our reunion was a living testament to these truths and to the relationship between love and fear. We were reminded of the fears this community has faced, met, and transcended — and inspired by the genuine connection, understanding, and love that took their place.

As the sun set on that perfect summer day, I felt deep gratitude for the privilege of being part of a community dedicated to “making fear less” and “love more” in the world around us.

Let’s Face Fear Together
If you or someone you love is struggling with fear or anxiety, know that you’re not alone — and that healing and connection are possible. We invite you to learn more about our program, join our community events, or simply reach out to start a conversation. Together, we can face fear and make room for more love in our lives.

Stay connected with Mountain Valley — where courage grows and love leads the way.

MOVING MOUNTAINS

Resources

Staff Spotlight: Nathan Thoele

Nathan Thoele is part of Mountain Valley’s leadership team, serving as the Residential Director. He leads a skilled team of residential counselors who work directly with MVTC residents on a 24/7 schedule. Nathan has a unique background that took him from working in summer camps, to AmeriCorps, to five years at the Vermont Institute of Natural Science as lead bird trainer and environmental educator. Today, he’s using his coaching and listening skills to ensure that MVTC is a safe and welcoming place for everyone.

What brought you to Mountain Valley?
I thought I wanted to be an ecologist, so I went to Prescott College to get a degree in something related to that. While on that journey, I realized that my favorite part about ecology was teaching it to people. I switched to an environmental education degree. After graduating, I moved to Vermont to put that degree into practice. I worked as a camp counselor, a conservation assistant, and an educator. After a couple of years of that, I landed at VINS and became one of their live bird show presenters, their primary bird trainer, and their volunteer trainer.

I got really into training people and learned that I liked coaching people to do specific and complex things. My job at VINS was to train people to train birds, and I enjoyed helping my co-workers make sense of the confusing parts of the job.

After being there for a while, I realized I wanted to work with people more than animals. I started looking for the next step in my career and found Mountain Valley. I specifically came here with the desire to practice my skill of listening. At VINS, someone pointed out that I seemed to have a profound desire to listen to people. I thought that seemed true, and when the job at Mountain Valley popped up, I took a leap of faith to try something new.

Tell us how your position has evolved over the last five years.
Originally, I was hired for an overnight residential counselor position. Everett Logan knew I was interested in more adventure- and outdoor-related activities, so he kept an eye out for a day shift position for me. Once it opened, I slid over and started some module facilitation. I created the Nature’s Classroom module, which is still very popular with residents today, though it looks a little different now. I also created a module about interpersonal skills that residents loved. After that, I moved up to a supervisor position, and then the Residential Director position opened. I applied and got it.

I’ve worked on every shift the residential team has—days, evenings, weekends, nights. That experience made me feel confident that I could serve Mountain Valley well as the Residential Director. I have a good perspective on what the residential staff are expected to do and how they do it.

What does a typical day look like for you?
I have 21 people on my team and directly supervise the supervisors for each shift. When I come into the office each day, I check to make sure we’re on top of any incidents and review my email to coordinate parent visits. Then it’s a lot of bouncing around—a lot of my job is checking in with other residential counselors and meeting with the supervisors multiple times per week. I also spend time with residents, and they’ll frequently ask me logistical questions about what is or isn’t allowed on campus, how home visits work, whether they can move their assigned laundry day, and so on. I answer them and try to have some deeper-level conversations as well.

Back at my desk, I spend time planning trainings for staff, coordinating with parents of residents, reviewing documentation, answering emails that ask complex questions, and handling a myriad of other clerical tasks. And, of course, I attend several routine meetings each week, in addition to impromptu meetings designed to address incidents as they arise.

What qualities do you look for when you’re hiring a new residential counselor?
I want residential counselors to have the impulse to trust residents rather than doubt them. In psychological terms, that’s unconditional positive regard and client-centered thinking. Beyond that, I want our staff to have good empathetic listening skills—listening geared toward empathy, not just cognitive understanding.

It’s important for our staff to balance setting firm boundaries with being flexible. We want our staff to engage with residents and be willing to embrace some discomfort alongside them. I can train some of this, but it’s important to be a people person.

What’s the most rewarding part of your job?
The time I get to spend with residents and the breakthroughs I witness. Just a few days ago, I was walking through the woods with one of our residents, who tends to avoid all emotional topics. I broached that subject with him and asked him why. We ended up having a very emotional conversation that ended with him kneeling on the ground in the forest and crying. He told me some things that I and other MV staff knew indirectly but that he had not said to anyone face-to-face before. It was a first for him and a profound moment for both of us.

I see the members of my team grow as professionals, and that always brings me joy. I’ve spent many afternoons having hard and crucial discussions with some of my staff as they grapple with the tough work we do. Witnessing them make sense of the work is truly special.

And finally, I am compelled to grow constantly. After five years, I am still challenged. Sometimes the challenge feels like too much, sometimes not enough. But overall, I like that I can look at who I was even just one year ago and see how much I have changed for the better. What I find most rewarding about this job is growth. We’re all growing all the time, and I love that.

MOVING MOUNTAINS

Resources

Meditation and Other Mindfulness Practices: How They Help Those Struggling with Anxiety

Mindfulness practices, particularly meditation for anxiety, have gained widespread recognition for their effectiveness in managing anxiety symptoms—a condition that affects millions worldwide. These practices are increasingly recommended by mental health professionals, including those at Mountain Valley Treatment Center, where mindfulness for anxiety relief is a component of the therapeutic approach. Clinicians at Mountain Valley may directly assign daily meditation practices to residents as part of their anxiety treatment plan, recognizing the powerful role these practices play in reducing anxiety and promoting emotional well-being.

Understanding Anxiety and the Role of Mindfulness

Anxiety disorders often manifest as excessive worry, fear, and a constant sense of unease, which can significantly interfere with daily life. For those struggling with anxiety, these feelings can be debilitating, making it challenging to focus on tasks, engage in social activities, or even rest. Mindfulness meditation for anxiety offers an effective countermeasure. By encouraging individuals to focus on the present moment without judgment, mindfulness techniques help create a sense of calm and balance. At Mountain Valley, clinicians often prescribe daily meditation for anxiety to help residents break the cycle of anxious thoughts. This structured practice allows residents to step back from their worries, observe their thoughts and feelings without becoming overwhelmed, and gradually regain control over their emotional responses.

Mindfulness meditation involves sitting in silence, focusing on the breath, and observing thoughts and emotions as they arise. For individuals with anxiety, this practice is transformative. It helps break the cycle of rumination, the repetitive, negative thinking that fuels anxiety. At Mountain Valley, residents may be guided through these meditation sessions by experienced clinicians who help them apply these techniques effectively. The practice teaches individuals to acknowledge their anxious thoughts and let them pass without attachment, a skill that can significantly reduce anxiety symptoms over time. This daily practice not only helps residents manage their anxiety during their stay but also equips them with tools they can use long after they leave.

Research-Backed Benefits of Mindfulness for Anxiety

The benefits of mindfulness meditation for anxiety are supported by extensive research. Studies have shown that regular practice can lead to structural changes in the brain, enhancing areas related to emotional regulation and reducing activity in the amygdala, the brain’s fear center (Siegel, 2007). This means that individuals who practice mindfulness meditation are better equipped to handle stress and respond to anxiety triggers more calmly and with greater resilience. At Mountain Valley, clinicians understand the importance of these findings and often incorporate mindfulness exercises for anxiety into the daily routines of residents to maximize these benefits. Additionally, mindfulness has been shown to decrease symptoms of anxiety, depression, and stress while improving overall mental health and cognitive functioning (Moore & Malinowski, 2009). These benefits are often a key factor in the treatment plans developed by Mountain Valley clinicians, who tailor mindfulness practices to meet the specific needs of each resident.

Mindfulness Practices at Mountain Valley Treatment Center

At Mountain Valley, mindfulness is more than just a practice—it’s a way of life. The center integrates mindfulness meditation into various aspects of its program, providing residents with multiple opportunities to cultivate this skill. Whether through structured meditation sessions, yoga, or moments of reflection in nature, residents learn to harness the power of mindfulness to manage their anxiety and other mental health challenges. Clinicians may assign specific mindfulness exercises as daily practices, helping residents build consistency and discipline in their mindfulness routines. This consistent practice is crucial for individuals dealing with chronic anxiety, as it helps them develop a strong foundation for emotional regulation and stress management.

Farming, Animal Stewardship, and Mindfulness

In addition to traditional mindfulness practices, Mountain Valley incorporates farming and animal stewardship into its mindfulness program. These activities require residents to be fully present and engaged, reinforcing the mindfulness techniques for anxiety learned in meditation. Caring for animals and working the land provide a sense of purpose and grounding, which is particularly beneficial for those with anxiety. At Mountain Valley, residents may participate in these activities daily, guided by clinicians who emphasize the importance of mindfulness in every task. These hands-on experiences help residents connect with the present moment, reducing anxious thoughts and promoting emotional stability (Louv, 2008). This holistic approach not only supports the residents’ mental health but also fosters a deeper connection to the natural world, which can be profoundly healing.

Supporting Parents Through Mindfulness

Anxiety doesn’t just affect the individual—it impacts families as well. At Mountain Valley, we encourage parents to engage in mindfulness practices to manage their own stress and anxiety. By incorporating mindfulness into their lives, parents can better support their child’s journey through treatment. This holistic approach ensures that both residents and their families are equipped with the tools they need for long-term mental health and well-being (Davis and Hayes, 2011). Mountain Valley clinicians may offer guidance to parents on how to integrate mindfulness into their daily routines, providing them with the same benefits their children experience. This shared practice not only reduces stress for parents but also creates a more supportive and harmonious environment for the entire family.

MOVING MOUNTAINS

Resources

Reflecting on Resilience: Insights from the 2024 Mountain Valley Alumni Reunion

At Mountain Valley Treatment Center, we believe in the power of community, healing, and shared experiences. The 2024 Mountain Valley Alumni Reunion was a testament to this belief, bringing together over 30 former residents, their families, and our dedicated staff for a day filled with reflection, gratitude, and inspiration.

A Gathering of Courage and Connection

This year’s reunion was more than just a homecoming; it was a celebration of the incredible journeys our alumni have undertaken since their time at Mountain Valley.

The day began with a powerful exercise led by executive director Zack Schafer, where attendees were asked to collect sticks and gather in a circle. Zack read aloud a list of fears, and those who felt a connection to a particular fear walked to the center of the circle to place their stick in the fire pit. As the activity progressed, attendees began sharing their own fears, and others who resonated with those fears joined them in adding their sticks to the fire. By the end, the fire pit was filled with the collective fears of the community, ready to be burned during the closing ceremony. This symbolic act set the tone for the day, reminding everyone that they were not alone in their fears and that true courage, supported by a strong community, is essential in facing them.

Stories of Transformation and Hope

As the reunion came to a close, everyone gathered around the fire that had been built earlier in the day, setting their fears ablaze. With the fire crackling and a strong sense of togetherness in the air, Zack invited alumni to step forward and share their stories. The microphone was passed from one person to the next, and with each story, the themes of resilience and growth became more evident.

Molly, a former resident who attended Mountain Valley in 2018, was among the first to speak. She shared her journey from a 12-year-old overwhelmed by anxiety and depression to a thriving college student at McGill University in Montreal. Molly reflected on how Mountain Valley provided her with the tools not only to survive but to thrive—teaching her that she is more than her mental health struggles and empowering her to embrace her identity beyond anxiety and depression.

Hayden, another alum, recounted his arrival at Mountain Valley six years ago. He shared how his time here marked the end of a difficult chapter in his life, one filled with overwhelming anxiety and school absenteeism. Today, Hayden is a college graduate with high honors and has come full circle by returning to Mountain Valley to work as a staff member, helping others who are on a similar journey.

Olivia, who attended Mountain Valley from October 2021 to January 2022, recalled her initial reluctance to join the program. However, as she connected with others and engaged in the community, she discovered her love for the outdoors and built lasting friendships that continue to this day. Olivia’s story is a reminder that sometimes the hardest steps lead to the most rewarding journeys.

Wes, who arrived at Mountain Valley last year, shared his story of radical transformation. Initially withdrawn and hesitant, Wes gradually opened up, found his voice, and began developing meaningful relationships. His experience is a powerful example of how Mountain Valley’s supportive environment can help individuals rebuild their self-confidence, find a sense of belonging, and begin forging connections with others.

The Power of Perseverance

Each story shared during the reunion was unique, yet they all echoed a common theme: perseverance. Alex, who attended Mountain Valley earlier this year, spoke about how his time at the center helped him shed the mask he had been wearing for years. With the support of the community, he found the courage to face his fears and embrace his true self. Today, Alex is thriving in his new life, attending college and holding down a job.

Ivy, who joined Mountain Valley in May 2023, reflected on how the experience changed her perspective on the world. Despite the challenges she faced after leaving, her time at Mountain Valley gave her the strength to navigate life’s ups and downs with hope and resilience. Ivy’s words captured the essence of what Mountain Valley aims to instill in all its residents: the belief that hurt people can indeed help others, and that personal growth often stems from life’s most difficult experiences.

A Journey that Continues

As the reunion came to an end, it was evident that the bonds formed at Mountain Valley are profoundly deep and transformative. The stories shared were not just about overcoming anxiety or depression; they were about discovering community, finding purpose, and uncovering one’s true self. Each alum who spoke embodied the courage and resilience of the Mountain Valley community, embracing the challenge of making “fear less” so they can live more fully.

We are immensely proud of our alumni and deeply grateful for the privilege of being part of their journeys. The 2024 reunion was a powerful reminder of the impact we can create when we come together and confront our fears.

If you or someone you know is struggling with anxiety or other mental health challenges, remember that hope and help are available. Mountain Valley Treatment Center is here to support you on your path to recovery.

Stay Connected

For more stories of resilience and recovery, be sure to tune in to the Fear Less podcast, where we continue to share the voices of our community. To hear a live recording of the fire ceremony mentioned in this article, check out Episode #40: “From Fear to Freedom: Inspiring Stories from Mountain Valley Alumni.”

Thank you for being a part of the Mountain Valley family, and we look forward to the next chapter in all of our lives.

Thank you for reading, and remember, it’s not about being fearless; it’s about making your fear less.

MOVING MOUNTAINS

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Cultivating Healing Through Stewardship

At Mountain Valley Treatment Center, we believe that healing is not just about addressing mental health symptoms but about cultivating a sense of purpose through connecting and contributing to the world around us. One of the ways we do that is through our stewardship program. At Mountain Valley, residents engage in a variety of stewardship activities that provide them with opportunities to contribute to our campus community. One of the more innovative stewardship opportunities we offer is our farm and animal stewardship program. This portion of our program is led by our dedicated Farm and Animal Coordinator, Hann Bernardi, who specializes in integrating the care of animals and our land into the therapeutic process for our residents.

A Unique Approach to Healing

Mountain Valley has always incorporated animals, farming, and other agricultural activities into our programming, but the introduction of a dedicated Farm and Animal Coordinator marked a significant shift in how we approach the integration of these elements. Han, with a background in large-scale agriculture, brings not only expertise in animal care and farming but also a burning passion for how time spent on the land can be used as a therapeutic tool for healing. Hann works to integrate residents’ individualized treatment goals into the farm work, providing a space for them to practice what they are learning in therapy, connect with nature, and find themselves through the meaningful work they do on the farm.

The Power of Stewardship

Stewardship is at the center of our farm and animal program and is at the core of Mountain Valley’s approach to healing. Being a steward requires one to take ownership and responsibility for caring for something outside of oneself. Many of our residents come to Mountain Valley struggling with anxiety and fear that prevent them from taking care of themselves, taking charge of their lives, and contributing to the world around them. Through the farm and animal stewardship program, residents learn to care for animals and the land, which, in turn, helps them better care for themselves.

Hann explains it beautifully, stating, “If you can learn to be a steward for other creatures, it will inevitably help you cultivate that stewardship for yourself.” By taking on the responsibility to care for the animals and the land, residents develop self-discipline and self-efficacy as they begin to view themselves as contributing members of a larger community.

Building Skills, Building Confidence

Beyond the emotional and psychological benefits, the stewardship program also equips residents with practical life skills. From basic animal husbandry tasks like feeding and grooming to more complex projects like building infrastructure for the farm, residents get hands-on experience with everyday life skills that help them develop mastery, bolster self-confidence, and gain an appreciation for hard work.

One recent project involved residents building a house for the bunnies on the farm—a task that required them to measure, cut, and assemble materials with precision. Upon completing the project, they felt a profound sense of accomplishment, as this structural addition to our farm was a tangible representation of the value they can add to the world.

Reflecting on Personal Growth

The animals at Mountain Valley play a unique role in the healing process as they often serve as a “mirror” to residents, reflecting back the parts of themselves they need to work on. For example, Hann shares a story about Ivar, a rooster whose tendency toward aggression and self-protection became a source of fear for many residents. Hann worked with the residents to develop empathy and understanding for Ivar. Residents were able to relate to him as they recognized that Ivar was scared too and that his aggression was a classic example of the “fight” response that is sometimes seen in someone experiencing fear or anxiety. Through seeing themselves in Ivar, the residents were able to better understand him and develop effective strategies for communication and boundary setting. This experience not only provided residents with a great exposure opportunity around their fear of Ivar but also facilitated a deeper level of personal reflection and contemplation that can sometimes be difficult to achieve in the therapy office.

A Growing Community

The farm at Mountain Valley is not just a place for healing; it’s also a dynamic, changing, and growing community. With a variety of animals, including hens, sheep, donkeys, bunnies, and goats, residents often find themselves drawn to different creatures that represent themselves, their needs, and their emotions.

Each animal, just like each resident, brings something unique to the community. As the farm continues to expand, so do the therapeutic opportunities. The future of the stewardship program is bright, with plans for further development. The current project the community is working on is building a community Zen garden that can provide an additional therapeutic space on campus for residents to unwind and restore.

Conclusion

At Mountain Valley Treatment Center, our stewardship program is more than just a way to care for animals—it’s a powerful tool for personal growth, healing, and transformation. By fostering a connection with the land and animals, residents not only confront and overcome their fears but also develop a deeper sense of responsibility, self-worth, and community. Under Hann Bernardi’s guidance, the farm has become an integral part of the healing journey, offering residents a unique and enriching experience that stays with them long after they leave Mountain Valley.

To learn more about Mountain Valley’s Stewardship program and Hann Bernardi check Episode #38: “Healing Through Stewardship: The Therapeutic Power of Animals and Agriculture” of the Fear Less podcast.

If you or someone you know is struggling with anxiety and could benefit from the holistic approach to healing offered at Mountain Valley, please don’t hesitate to reach out to us. We’re here to help you on your journey to recovery.

MOVING MOUNTAINS

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Alchemizing Fear: From Enemy to Ally

Last week, on the Fear Less Podcast, we released Episode #36: “Fear, Fatherhood, and Transformation: Zack’s Journey to Becoming Dad.” In this episode, I reflected on the biggest life transition I have made to date—becoming a father. In my reflection, I talk about the role fear and anxiety played throughout my journey into fatherhood, and how impactful my fear was in helping me refine who I am and who I wanted to be as a father.

For many of us, we have an adverse relationship with fear. We associate fear with being an enemy—something that taunts us, holds us back, and keeps us small. And for many of us, we have good reason to feel this way. Fear and anxiety are incredibly powerful and incredibly uncomfortable to feel. Fear can be all-consuming to the body and mind, leading us to think thoughts we don’t want to think, feel sensations we don’t want to feel, or take actions we don’t want to take.

For many of us, when we feel fear, we feel trapped. Its all-consuming nature paralyzes us and we become enslaved, losing our sense of agency and no longer able to act as freely as we desire. As commonly quoted from the bestselling book series and now Academy Award-winning movie, Dune, “Fear is the mind-killer.”

However, if you are familiar with the book or the movie series, you will remember that this quote is part of a larger mantra that goes like this:

“I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little death that brings obliteration. I will face my fear and I will allow it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”

I love this mantra, as I think it aligns with my personal experiences with fear, Mountain Valley’s philosophy on fear, and the ethos of the Fear Less Podcast: it is not about being fearless, but it is about making your fear less.

We don’t want fear to go away. We don’t want to avoid it. We don’t want to get rid of it. We want to acknowledge it, we want to face it, we want to lean into it, and we want to learn from it. In fact, most of the time, on the other side of fear is a better, more refined version of you.

Fear can be an incredible teacher and a catalyst for personal growth. Fear is the part of us that shows us where things might go wrong, so we can try to make things right. Fear is the mirror that reflects back to us the things we need to change. Fear can be an ally rather than an enemy, a friend rather than a foe.

But fear needs to be in its proper place. It can’t be in the driver’s seat; it needs to be in the passenger seat. Fear should be someone you bring along with you to inform your decisions, not the final decision-maker.

Here are some thoughts on how to alchemize fear for transformation:

Face It – When you feel fear coming on, look at it. Really look at it. Ask yourself, “What am I afraid of? What am I afraid might happen?” Allow your mind to explore and allow it to travel to all the dark places and all the worst outcomes. Be present with what fear is trying to show you. Don’t avoid it, face it head-on.

Example from Podcast: My fear told me that I would not be a good father to my son if I continued to live my life the way I was. It showed me how my current actions would lead me to be a distant father, disconnected from my wife and my children. A man who is tired, stressed, and a shell of the passionate and loving man I once was. As hard as it was to do, I had to take time to acknowledge that, be with it, and really see that future playing out. I had to feel the pain that would cause me and cause those that I love.

Reflect Honestly – Once your fear has shown you the potential danger and all the worst things imaginable, ask yourself the honest question, “Is this true? Or could this outcome happen?” Before you do an honest, rational, and objective self-inquiry, it’s important to be in a good headspace. Being honest with yourself is very challenging, and it can be painful to come to terms with your fears and any role you may have played in them coming true. Be honest, but be kind. Taking a good look in the mirror is never easy, but always fruitful for helping you move forward.

Example from Podcast: As my fear began to show me all the ways in which I was going to fail as a father, it was painful, but many of them were true. If I continued to prioritize my work to the detriment of my relationships, my interests, and my health, I would not be able to be a good father for my son. As much as it hurt, I needed to see that and feel that to change.

Connect to Your Values – Fear can be an incredibly powerful tool for helping you establish or re-establish your values. When we are scared, what is important to us often becomes abundantly clear. Furthermore, knowing our values and what is important to us can be an incredible asset when trying to navigate the dark waters of fear. In the podcast, I talk about values serving as a compass, helping us to find our way when we feel lost. Fear, when in its proper place, can set us on the right path.

Example from Podcast: On the other side of the pain, my mind was clear as I can remember. I had taken the time to establish my values before, but through this experience of facing down my fear, they shined through more prominently than ever: Faith, Family, Service, and Health. These are the pillars that I need to build my life upon so I can become the father I was always meant to be.

Take Action – Although being with your fear and owning it is challenging, that is only half the battle. None of that matters if you don’t DO something about it. You must face your fear and move forward courageously. Once your fear connects you back to your values and highlights the pathway forward, take action towards those values and face your fears through living and being differently.

Example from Podcast: Although my son Micah has only been in our lives for five weeks, I am living differently. I am leaving work earlier to spend time with my family. I am eating cleaner and resting more. I have taken up trail running again and not a day goes by where I am not outdoors moving my body. My fear showed me where I needed to go, and although I am not there yet, I am on my way.