My Deep Connection to Earth Started Just 5 Years Ago—It’s Not Too Late for Yours
Day 12 of sharing why we care reminded me that it's not too late to begin this relationship
My earliest feeling of deep connection to Earth was only about five or six years ago.
I liked nature before then, of course. I appreciated trees, the deer, parks, and hiking before then, but I didn’t have the felt-sense of kinship with the more-than-human world that defines my life now.
This really started for me when I walked the Camino in France in 2022.
I had glimpses before. My spiritual and religious practices included elements of earth-based spirituality. I was already studying ecospirituality as part of my spiritual direction studies. I read the books. I understood the concepts intellectually.
But the direct, embodied, visceral connection didn’t happen until I spent personal, individual time along that walk through France. Days of silence and putting one foot in front of the other. Hours of being present to land, sky, and path.
That’s when it became real. That’s when kinship moved from concept to experience.
That kinship has only continued to develop and grow in me since.
The Moment Everything Changed
There was a specific place that changed how I saw my relationship with land.
The Aubrac Plateau in south-central France. A high, rolling grassland where the sky goes on forever. Where cows graze in ancient patterns. Where you can see farther than seems possible in a landscape without mountains.
Something about that plateau stunned me when I walked it years ago. The openness. The sky. The cows. How far the eye can travel across that expanse. I stood there amazed at the beauty that existed long before I arrived and will continue long after I’m gone.
I look forward to walking it again in the contemplative walking retreat I’m leading in September 2026. That plateau is where I want to bring seekers who need to experience what I experienced. The felt-sense of being part of something vast and ancient and alive.
Not thinking about it. Feeling it. In body. In breath. In steps.
What Keeps Me Going
People ask what sustains this work despite climate anxiety, grief, and difficulty.
Part of the answer is in the revised edition of Active Hope by Joanna Macy and Chris Johnstone. That framework I’ve written about in previous days of this challenge. The practice of seeing reality clearly, identifying what you hope for, and taking steps toward that intention even without optimism.
Active Hope doesn’t require believing things will get better. It requires choosing what you aim to bring about and acting from that intention.
That’s what keeps me going. Not hope that we’ll fix everything. Intention to tend what’s in my hands. To guide others into relationship with land. To practice care even when outcomes are uncertain.
Intention sustains when optimism fails.
Why Earth Matters to Me
If I had to tell you in a few sentences why Earth matters to me personally, not from data but from heart, here’s what I’d say:
I am part of Earth. In this way, I share life with all other beings.
We are equally connected with Earth as every other living being. The difference is that we humans engage in intentional harm to Earth, in contrast to every other non-human living being that has ever existed.
We harm for personal profit and greed while all others engage in reciprocal living. That pattern is what I’m trying to interrupt in myself and help others interrupt in themselves.
From my postmodern studies, we could also refer to this as problematizing our experiences.
Not from guilt. From recognition that another way exists. Other beings show us how to live in reciprocity every day. We just have to pay attention and follow their example.
The Gradual Calling
My Wild Guide ordination wasn’t a single moment. It was an internal feel, a direction that wouldn’t go away. It occurred over years.
A gradual reframing of my life from a capitalist-though-do-no-harm perspective to recognizing that capitalism by definition is about increase and growth. Growth can’t continue unchecked without doing harm.
That realization invited an unexpected shift in my perspective and priorities. Once you see that perpetual growth requires extraction, you can’t unsee it. Once you recognize we’re part of Earth rather than owners of it, reciprocity becomes the only ethical response.
The calling to become a Wild Guide emerged from that reframing. Not as dramatic conversion. As slow recognition of what my life needed to be about. What I needed to guide others toward.
Why I Can Speak Now
Years ago, doing more corporate work, sharing this “why” would have been challenging. Maybe risky professionally. Certainly uncomfortable in those contexts.
Now it’s grown into who I am. In that way, I talk about it naturally. It’s no longer vulnerable because it’s simply true. This is my life. This is my work. This is what matters to me.
I share from this place not to convince anyone but to offer what I’ve found. To say it’s not too late if you’re just beginning to feel this connection. To remind people who’ve felt it for years that their voice still matters.
Your Practice Today
Here’s what I’m inviting: tell your story.
Not the facts about climate change. Your story. What place do you love? What being matters to you? What do you fear losing? What gives you hope?
Write it down. Record it. Share it here in our community. Tell a friend. Tell family. Put it on a Post-It on your monitor. Or just tell yourself.
Your voice matters. Your story is a gift. The world needs to hear why you care.
If you’ve been doing this work for years, what sustains you? If you’re just beginning like I was only five years ago, what called you here?
There’s no wrong answer. There’s only your truth about why Earth matters to you.
Stories change hearts in ways data alone cannot. Research shows that personal narratives about climate change, rooted in love not fear, are what move people to action.
Tomorrow is our final day. Day 13. October 24, International Day Against Climate Change. We’ll make one commitment going forward.
But today, just share your “why.” Tell us what you love so much you can’t stay silent.
The Aubrac Plateau is waiting for me in September 2026. What place is waiting for you? What relationship with land is calling you deeper?
It’s not too late. My journey started just five years ago. Yours can start today.
I’m developing a 13-Day EcoSpirituality Challenge and sharing what I’m learning here. Tomorrow: our final day and one commitment forward. If you’d like to practice along, consider subscribing for reflections on EcoSpirituality, sacred walking, and why the Earth matters.
Why do you care? I’d love to hear your story in the comments below.
That moment on Aubrac, how did it shift percepion?