The Inner Forest: What Animal Archetypes Can Teach Us About Ourselves
Stories are where I go to understand myself. Mythology, folklore, fairytales, and even modern movies give us these little maps for things we are all trying to figure out: who we are, where we belong, what happens when we lose ourselves, and how we find our way back. Because of this, I've been thinking a lot about the forest.
I painted Inner Forest in the winter of 2026 after rereading Clarissa Pinkola Estés' Women Who Run With the Wolves, a book I have returned to again and again throughout my own exploration of the feminine, creativity, spirituality, and what it means to become more fully myself. Estés writes about the wild woman through the stories of wolves, and what struck me this time was something that feels almost obvious once you see it: a wolf knows her forest.
She knows where the water is. She knows where there is shelter and where there is danger. She knows the creatures around her, the paths through the woods, when to stay with the pack and when to move on her own. She knows the territory because she has lived in it. She has learned it through experience. She knows what can hurt her and what will sustain her.
I started wondering what it would mean for a woman to know herself that way.
Not just the easy parts. Not just the version of herself she has learned to present to other people, but her whole inner landscape. Her history. Her wounds. Her desires. Her creativity. Her anger. Her intuition. The things that give her energy and the things that take it away. The people who are her pack and the people who aren't. The parts of herself she is proud of and the parts she is still learning to understand.
What would it look like to know the lay of our own land?
That question became Inner Forest.
What Is Your Inner Forest?
I think one of the most important parts of growing up is learning who you actually are, but somehow it is also one of the things we are most often taught to move away from.
Especially as women, we are given so many ideas about who we are supposed to become. We learn how to be beautiful, agreeable, productive, nurturing, successful, independent, desirable, accommodating. We learn which parts of ourselves are celebrated and which parts are better kept quiet. We can become so good at meeting expectations that we don't even notice when we have wandered very far from ourselves.
This is part of why the idea of an inner forest has become so meaningful to me.
Your inner forest is the landscape of you. It is your story, your history, your experiences, your patterns, your instincts, your gifts, your wounds, and all the parts of yourself that make up the person you are becoming. Knowing your inner landscape means learning what allows you to rest, what helps you grow, what makes you feel most alive, and what happens when you become disconnected from yourself.
It also means learning the darker parts of the forest.
There are things inside of us that can hurt us if we don't understand them. Old wounds can shape the way we see the world. Fear can disguise itself as intuition. Anger can tell us something important about a boundary we have crossed. The parts of ourselves we have tried to ignore don't necessarily disappear. Sometimes they simply wait in the woods until we are ready to meet them.
Knowing yourself doesn't mean becoming perfectly healed or figuring everything out. It means becoming familiar with the terrain.
You begin to recognize, I've been here before.
You know what this feeling is. You know what you need. You know when you need your people and when you need to go into the woods alone. You know which paths lead somewhere nourishing and which ones leave you feeling lost.
You begin to know your forest.
The Heroine's Journey Into the Woods
There is a reason the forest appears so often in stories about transformation.
In fairytales and mythology, the forest is usually the place where the familiar rules stop working. It is where the heroine leaves what she knows and encounters something she cannot control. She might meet a witch, a wolf, a wise old woman, a talking animal, or some strange creature that forces her to see something she couldn't see before.
I don't think these stories are really about getting lost in the woods.
I think they're about getting lost inside ourselves.
The heroine's journey asks a different set of questions than the traditional hero's journey. Instead of simply conquering the external world, she often has to return to the parts of herself she abandoned along the way. She enters the dark forest and discovers the Crone, the wise woman, the wild woman, the mother, the creator, the shadow. She begins to understand that the answers she has been searching for aren't necessarily outside of her. The call is within.
They are inside the landscape she has been learning to navigate all along.
This is the part of the feminine journey that fascinates me most. So much of our culture emphasizes moving forward, achieving, accomplishing, becoming. But there is another kind of growth that happens through going inward.
Through listening. Through remembering. Through becoming curious about the parts of yourself that don't fit neatly into the story you were given.
Why I Painted Inner Forest
The forest in this painting is based on the forests near where I live and around the places where I grew up. It carries some of my own memories of forests and the stories I have attached to them, but I didn't want it to be so specific that it could only belong to me.
Your forest might look completely different.
Maybe you grew up around rainforests or desert or ocean. Maybe the animals that feel like guides to you aren't the animals in this painting. Our symbols are shaped by our own lives, cultures, memories, and experiences, and I don't think there is one universal meaning for every animal.
What matters to me is the larger idea: we all have an inner landscape, and we spend our lives learning how to read it.
I painted the forest in winter because there is something especially magical about the woods when everything gets quiet. The light reflects off the snow and creates these unexpected purple tones. The trees feel different without all their leaves. There is more space between things. You can hear what is happening because there is so much less noise.
Winter has always felt deeply spiritual to me for this reason. It's the time when Persephone returns to the underworld until spring when she comes back to bring new life. It is a season of going inward.
The painting began with a rough idea, but as often happens with my paintings, the painting and I worked together to figure out what it wanted to become. I knew I wanted a forest. I knew there would be a wolf. I knew there was something about the feminine journey and finding our way back to ourselves that I was trying to understand. But the rest revealed itself through the process.
Eventually, twelve animals appeared.
The Animal Archetypes Hidden in the Forest
I wanted the animals in Inner Forest to be hidden enough that you have to spend some time looking for them. When people see the original in person, one of the first things they often do is start counting. How many can you find?
I love that this became part of the experience because it mirrors the idea behind the painting itself. You have to slow down to see what is actually there.
Some animals are obvious. Some are tucked into the landscape. And some may not mean anything to you at first. That is okay. Archetypes aren't a test with one right answer. They are invitations to look at something in yourself from another angle.
The Fox: The Beginning of the Journey
The fox is the trickster, the playful one, the creature who knows there is usually another way to approach a problem. She reminds me of The Fool in Tarot, who steps onto the path without knowing exactly where it will lead.
There is something important about beginning a journey without having the entire map.
The fox carries that energy of curiosity and unexpected possibility. She asks us to loosen our grip on the idea that we have to know exactly what we're doing before we begin.
The Bear: Mother and Divine Feminine
The bear represents the mother, resurrection, protection, and the Divine Feminine. She is nurturing, but she is also fierce. There is a strength that comes from knowing what you are responsible for protecting, and the bear knows it well.
This animal has become especially meaningful to me as a mother. There are things I understand about the mother archetype now that I couldn't have understood before becoming one myself.
The bear is a reminder that tenderness and strength are not opposites. Sometimes they are the same thing.
The Bear Cub: Wonder and Play
The bear cub is the child, the part of us that is curious simply because something is interesting.
She represents wonder, play, and the desire to explore without needing everything to have a purpose. She is connected to the root chakra and the question of belonging: Where do I belong? Where is home? Am I safe here?
I think we spend so much time trying to become impressive adults that we forget how much wisdom there is in being curious. The bear cub reminds us to play.
The Wolf: The Guide
The wolf is the center of this painting and the animal I kept coming back to throughout the entire process.
She represents the guide, the part of us that understands both community and freedom. The wolf knows her pack, but she also knows how to move through the wilderness.
That balance matters.
We need people. We need community. We need relationships that nourish us. But belonging should not require us to abandon ourselves.
The wolf carries the energy of strength and personal power, and she is the one who knows the way through the forest. She is the Wild Woman who has learned to trust her instincts. Most importantly, she lives in each and everyone of us.
The Deer: Gentle Strength
The deer represents the Divine Masculine, but not the version of masculinity that is defined by control or domination–patriachry
I think of the Divine Masculine as movement, action, and the ability to bring something into form. The deer reminds us that strength doesn't always have to be loud. There is incredible power in gentleness, awareness, and the ability to move quietly through the world.
Sometimes the strongest thing you can do is simply remain present.
The Owl: Intuition and the Hermit
The owl is the Hermit.
She sees in the dark, which makes her a natural symbol for intuition and inner knowing. There are some things we simply cannot understand when we are surrounded by noise and other people's opinions.
We have to get quiet.
The owl carries the energy of the sixth chakra, that place of inner sight and intuition. She reminds us that darkness isn't always something to escape. Sometimes it is where we finally learn how to see.
The Magpie: The Shadow
The magpie represents the shadow, transformation, and necessary endings.
Magpies are known for collecting things, and that made me think about all the things we collect throughout our lives. Identities. Expectations. Stories. Beliefs. Relationships. Things other people told us about ourselves.
Some of those things belong in our lives. Some don't.
The magpie asks us to look at what we are carrying and decide what is still ours. She is connected to the seventh chakra in my interpretation, to enlightenment and moving between the visible and invisible worlds.
The Squirrel: Preparation and Energy
The squirrel is about preparation and energy. She knows how to gather, store, and conserve what she needs for another season.
I think this is a particularly useful archetype for women because our energy is constantly being asked for. From work, family, relationships, creativity, community, and all the invisible things we carry.
The squirrel asks us to pay attention.
Where is your energy going? What gives it back to you? What are you saving for? What actually deserves your time?
The Rabbit: Creativity and Fertility
The rabbit represents creative life, fertility, and the incredible ability to create something from very little.
Fertility doesn't only mean having children. Ideas are fertile. Paintings are fertile. Businesses are fertile. New versions of ourselves are fertile.
The rabbit carries the energy of the second chakra, which is connected to creativity and life force. She reminds us that creativity isn't an extra activity we do when everything else is finished. Creativity is part of being alive.
The Sparrow: The Small Voice Within
The sparrow is one of the easiest animals to miss.
She represents the small voice inside of us, the quiet knowing that can get drowned out by everything else. Other people's expectations can be loud. So can social media, cultural norms, family opinions, fear, and our own inner critic.
Intuition often isn't loud. Sometimes it sounds more like a whisper. The sparrow reminds us that we have to become quiet enough to hear our own voice.
The Blue Jay: Voice and Communication
The blue jay represents communication and finding your authentic voice.
Knowing what you believe is one thing. Having the courage to say it is another.
The blue jay is connected to the throat chakra and the movement of our inner knowing into the outside world. She asks us to speak honestly about what we see, what we need, what we believe, and who we are becoming.
The Cardinal: Our Connection to the Past
The cardinal carries the energy of those who came before us.
Cardinals are often associated with loved ones who have passed, with that strange and comforting feeling that someone who is no longer physically here can still somehow be present.
I think about our ancestors in a broader sense, too. Our stories didn't begin with us. There are people, places, traditions, wounds, gifts, and wisdom that we inherit and carry forward.
The cardinal reminds me that the people we love don't simply disappear from our stories when they die. Sometimes they become part of the landscape.
The Chakra System as Another Map
The animals in Inner Forest are also connected to the chakra system, which became another way for me to think about the different layers of ourselves.
I don't see the chakra system as a separate explanation for the forest. To me, it is more like a tree inside a larger ecosystem. It is part of the story, not the whole story.
The lower chakras speak to some of our most foundational experiences: survival, belonging, creativity, energy, and identity. The upper chakras move toward intuition, communication, inner sight, and connection. These different layers show up in so many parts of our lives, and understanding them can give us another way to notice what is happening within us.
Caroline Myss' Anatomy of the Spirit has been one of my favorite resources for exploring this idea.
But just like the animals themselves, I don't think we need to force ourselves into one category. We are layered. We are constantly changing. We can be working through questions of survival and intuition at the same time. We can be deeply creative while also feeling completely depleted. We can know exactly who we are in one area of our life and feel completely lost in another.
We will spend our lives continuing to add to the map.
Explore more archetypes with my archetype oracle deck. 20 archetypes to guide you in your personal life and business.
Which Animal Are You?
One of my favorite things about working with archetypes is that I don't think we get to choose just one.
You might be the fox in one season of your life and the bear in another. You might spend a year as the rabbit, overflowing with creative energy, and then find yourself needing the solitude of the owl. You might suddenly understand the magpie after a necessary ending or see yourself in the bear cub when you realize how much you have missed playing.
Right now, as a mother of a young child, the bear and bear cub feel particularly familiar to me. At another point in my life, I might have been much more fox-like, wanting freedom, play, and unexpected adventure.
The wolf, though, is always there.
That is what I love about the idea of archetypes. They aren't boxes we put ourselves into. They are different parts of us that become more visible at different times.
All of them are within us.
The wildness. The wisdom. The shadow. The mother. The child. The creator. The communicator. The part that wants to belong and the part that wants to run free.
Learning to Read Your Own Landscape
Sometimes I think the reason we feel lost is not because we have no idea where to go, but because we haven't learned the landscape yet.
I've had seasons where I didn't know what I needed, what was draining me, what was actually mine to carry, or which direction felt true. Looking back, I don't think I needed someone else to hand me the answer.
I needed to learn the terrain.
That takes time.
You learn it through experience. Through mistakes. Through relationships. Through paying attention to your body and your intuition. Through noticing what happens when you ignore yourself and what happens when you listen.
Eventually you start recognizing the landmarks.
You know when you're heading toward something that isn't good for you. You know what restores you. You know who your people are. You recognize when you're moving from intuition and when you're moving from fear.
You begin to trust yourself.
And I think that is ultimately what Inner Forest is about. Not finding someone else who can tell you who you are. Learning to know yourself well enough that you can find your own way.
The wise woman from the Uncaged Collection
Becoming the Wise Woman
When I think about this painting ten years from now, I hope I see something different in it.
Maybe I'll notice an animal I hadn't seen before. Maybe a particular tree will suddenly mean something. Maybe I'll understand one of the symbols in a completely different way because I've lived another decade of my own story.
That is the beautiful thing about self-discovery. The landscape doesn't necessarily change, but we do.
Every year we can see a little more. And eventually, if we are lucky, we become the Crone. The wise woman who knows the forest because she has walked through it.
She knows where the water is. She knows where the danger lives. She knows when to stay with the pack and when to walk alone. She knows that some paths have to be traveled more than once. She knows that the dark forest isn't something to fear, because she has learned how to see there.
That is the woman I hope to become.
And maybe the greatest gift of becoming a wise woman is that you can eventually help another woman find her way through her own forest.
Finding Your Way Home
I made Inner Forest to be a painting you can keep discovering.
You might notice the light first. Then the wolf. Then, if you spend a little longer with it, you'll find another animal tucked into the trees. And another. Eventually you might begin wondering why that particular animal caught your attention, or what it might be trying to tell you.
That's my favorite kind of art.
Not art that gives you an answer, but art that opens a door.
I believe our homes can hold those kinds of reminders. A piece of art can be beautiful, of course, but it can also become part of the way we remember who we are. It can remind us to slow down, ask a question, listen to our intuition, notice the season we're in, or remember something we already knew but had forgotten.
This is why I think of my paintings as visual stories and, in some ways, as medicine.
Inner Forest is my own map, but I don't expect it to be yours.
Maybe your forest looks different. Maybe your animal guides are different. Maybe you don't know what they are yet. That's okay. The more time you spend learning its paths, the more likely you are to recognize the way home.