[Naffer Miller]

When Coyote’s Guide arrived in the mail, I hugged the book and said, “No way!” I then immediately ran upstairs to my office and pulled an old friend out from one of my bookshelves.

I think it was in 2007 when I sat sponge-like, taking in every word of Richard Louv’s talk at the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C. Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder was a book that grabbed and shook me, affirmed what I didn’t always have the words for, and set me firmly back on my path, from which I had faltered a bit, with new fire and determination. I was a teacher and a summer camp director, and Mr. Louv’s book helped me at a point in my life when I started understanding that my seemingly disconnected passions, both professional and personal, were actually quite connected. As I read, my head swirled with conversations I’d had with parents and guardians over the years about boosting resumes for second graders, insisting upon summer tutoring and academic enrichment programs over camp so learning wouldn’t be lost, or favoring the computer lab activities over those at the creek. And all these years later, here he was on the cover of Coyote’s Guide, another book that is grabbing me with every page. Both books offer much to consider around the question of what it means to be connected to nature.

There is a familiarity that can develop on the surface of things. One can stand atop something with the support of the tension created by the connections of its basic elements, or a net created by interwoven aspects. The surface is safe, it may become familiar territory, and as such, it remains unremarkable. You can dismiss the surface area and dwell atop it unchanged. There is no true connection, no venturing beneath. This is also true when it comes to Nature.

To be truly connected to Nature, one needs to venture beneath the surface, surrender to the unknown, trust, and listen. One can apply learned formulas to Nature, describe its cycles, and identify its components, but recognition and application do not translate to connection. A connection is a relationship between two things. There is a reciprocity in connection. When it comes to Nature, I get caught up in identifying where that reciprocity is and what it looks like. What is nature getting in return from our connection, our link, our relationship? Communication is a key to any successful relationship, and when it comes to Nature, that communication can’t stop short at just being out on the land. We must listen, be present, and in turn communicate back. Part of my journey is examining what communicating back to Nature truly looks like.

Coyote’s Guide says, “When we say connection, we mean a familiarity, a sense of kinshi, just as we all experience with our human family. The goal includes knowledge and skills, but ultimately relationship restores our bond to nature.” That bond will lead us to care and as much as Nature is an essential part of our health as humans, so are we essential to the health of Nature and the world around us. Therein lies an opportunity for reciprocity- an exchange of natural energy that will lead to a positive cycle of health, support, growth, and evolution.

Nature can also teach us about how we show up as coaches and guides. It is always its most genuine self and is always fully present. Nature doesn’t judge, it listens deeply, it doesn’t discriminate, and it doesn’t interrupt. Nature was present before humankind, and it has an infinite store of truths for all of us. What truths do we hold for Nature?