In celebration of Earth Day this year we launched #LPAEarthStories, a campaign to draw focus to the importance of sharing personal stories about our relationships with the natural world.
The idea had been brewing for some time, prompted by the growing research on how personal storytelling can inspire us to take action on climate change, such as this study from the Yale Program on Climate Change Communication.
But the immediate impetus for the campaign—aside from Earth Day, April 22—was the work of one of our coaches, Dr. Tami Spry. Tami is a vocal advocate for “being in constant conversation with the natural world” to explore both the personal benefits it brings and how it influences how we and others shape our beliefs and behaviors.
When our 2023 intern, Samantha Bailon, read a blog post about Tami’s work, she was inspired to speak with her and to craft the #LPAEarthStories campaign around a single question: “What personal stories do we tell about our connection to the natural world?” Sam posed that question to LPA team members and coaches, and the stories we shared were alternately reflective, revealing, entertaining and poetic. (See below.)
We highly recommend using some variation of Tami and Sam’s prompting question as a discussion-starter or teambuilding exercise—or to explore the source of your own advocacy for environmental stewardship. As Tami says, that exploration “can be silly or sacred, simple or complex. If it leads to environmental advocacy or in a spiritual direction, so be it. If it means adding another conch to your shell collection, great. The point is: do it.”
So: what personal stories can you tell about connections to the natural world? Share yours in the comments. Here are some of ours.
“I have never been an outdoorsy person. Well, technically I was a woods and creek girl up until middle school. Nowadays, reading and playing farming sims under a nice blanket is my type of fun. However, two and half years ago I began dating a very outdoorsy person who has pushed me to enjoy some of the things he enjoys. The picture I have included is from a special trip my partner and I took to Tennessee. It made me really appreciate how beautiful a view can be, especially when it is shared with the right person. ”
“Nature is my constant companion. I grew up in the woods in Northern NJ—right off the Appalachian trail. The towering oaks, the jagged boulders, and the trickling streams—my playground. No matter where I have lived, I’ve sought the comfort and solace that abounds in feeling the wind through the trees ,hearing the frogs singing, and seeing the sun setting over a beautiful lake. Nature is a reminder to seek the sublime in the ordinary, to recalibrate when the stressors become too intense, and to remember that this earth and the life it sustains is a gift to be treasured.”
“Being on an ocean beach brings me deep calm and grounding. I love the smell and feel of salt air. Waves slapping the shore. Pelicans and gulls. Imagining what lies beyond the sea horizon. I’m fairly certain this connection has something to do with my grandparents, all of whom grew up in Italian coastal villages before emigrating to the western and southern coasts of the U.S., where I’d visit them as a child. We all carry deep within us this sense of place.”
“Whenever I look at the ocean, I’ve always felt at peace. The ebb and flow of the waves center my soul and calm my anxiety. At the same time, I feel both grounded and liberated, safe and strong, ready and resilient, knowing I can take on anything life brings my way. I’m reminded that everything will be okay, that I will be okay, that we will be okay.”
“From the moment my step-dad taught me to ride a bike it has felt as if my feet have hardly touched the ground since. In college, missing my family bike trips, it wasn’t until I found Hawthorne Trail that I had mended a part of myself, and finally felt at home.”
“Living in New York City, connecting to the natural world can be a challenge. Fortunately, Riverside Park is nearby. Whether walking through carefully tended community gardens in the summer, monitoring leaves changing colors during the fall, trudging along the Hudson River promenade during a heavy snow, or strolling with springtime’s daffodils, tulips, and trees abloom (Cherry Blossoms!), it invigorates, relaxes, and delights me. (During that blizzard trudge, snow becoming ice on my beard, I greeted the only other person I saw, amazed. We seemed to be the only two people in city that day.)”
“Tintagel: An English castle by the teal, moody Cornish sea, birth place to Arthurian legend, and home to chieftains. A place so steeped in history, it’s hard to not feel the connection to every stone that built castle walls, every flower, and steep cliff side. Maybe it’s granola crunchy, but the earth has a sense of place, of history, of legacy that is hard to ignore. Tintagel is one of many places that I felt more connected to history, place making, and a reminder to protect, preserve, and cherish the earth as our home.”
“When I am feeling fairly lost or overwhelmed I try to find a river or a stream and surrender my head and heart to the sensory surroundings. Watching the water flow by, hearing the rush or trickle of the river, smelling and almost tasting the fresh air flowing from the water, and feeling the soil under my feet, something happens to the weight of the grief. Something happens to the chaos of my thoughts. It’s not that the loss and tumult are gone, but they are somehow less burdensome. Perhaps hope trickles in, maybe clarity seems possible there in the always of nature.”
