Walk With Nevin Harper: We Didn't Go to Nature. We Lived in It.
Episode Summary: What happens when nature isn't a destination, but simply part of everyday life?
In this conversation, counselor, professor, outdoor educator, and author Nevin Harper reflects on growing up in northern Canada, where forests, wildlife, and wild landscapes shaped his understanding of wellbeing, belonging, and human development. Together, we explore how our environments influence who we become and what it means to live in relationship with nature.
Many of us think of nature as somewhere we go—a park, a trail, a vacation destination, or a place to escape. But for Nevin, nature was never separate from daily life. It was simply the environment he lived in.
As we talked, I found myself reflecting on how deeply environments shape us. Whether we're talking about children, communities, organizations, or individuals, we are always adapting to the conditions around us. The natural world is no exception.
This conversation invites us to consider not only our relationship with nature, but also the environments we create and inhabit every day.
Show NOtes
What if our relationship with nature is shaped long before we consciously think about it?
In this episode, I sit down with Nevin Harper, counselor, professor, outdoor educator, and co-author of Nature-Based Therapy and Kids These Days. Growing up in northern Canada, Nevin experienced nature not as something to visit, but as the backdrop of everyday life. Encounters with wildlife, long winters, and time spent outdoors were simply part of growing up.
Our conversation explores how those early experiences shaped his life's work and his understanding of human wellbeing. We discuss nature-based counseling, outdoor education, the role of play in child development, and why the environments adults create have such a profound influence on young people.
Along the way, Nevin shares stories from decades of working with youth, leading wilderness programs, and helping people explore therapeutic conversations outdoors. We also discuss the difference between using nature as a setting for therapy and understanding the deeper role environment plays in human development and healing.
At its heart, this conversation is a reminder that nature is more than a place. It is a relationship—one that has the potential to shape how we connect with ourselves, each other, and the world around us.
Key Themes
Nature as everyday life rather than a destination
Nature-based counseling and outdoor therapeutic practice
The influence of environments on human development
Belonging and relationship with the natural world
Ecosystem thinking and wellbeing
How adults shape the environments children grow up in
Remembering rather than rediscovering our connection with nature
Key Takeaways
Our relationship with nature is often shaped by the environments we grow up in.
Nature-based counseling is not about nature magically healing people; it's about creating conditions that support connection, awareness, and growth.
Movement and outdoor experiences can reveal things that traditional conversations sometimes cannot.
Children adapt to the environments adults create around them.
Play, exploration, and outdoor experiences remain important parts of healthy development.
Nature is not separate from us—we are already living within it.
"We didn't go to nature. We lived in it."
Reflection Prompt
What environments have shaped who you are—and how might your relationship with nature be influencing you in ways you haven't yet noticed?
Connect with Nevin Harper
Nevin Harper is a counselor, professor, outdoor educator, researcher, and author whose work focuses on nature-based counseling, outdoor learning, human development, and wellbeing.
Website:https://www.nevinharper.com
LinkedIn:https://www.linkedin.com/in/nevinharper
Resources Mentioned
Nature-Based Therapy by Nevin Harper, Kathryn Rose, and David Segal
Kids These Days by Nevin Harper and William B. Russell
Outward Bound
Forest Therapy and nature-based counseling approaches
Prefer to read? The full transcript is below.
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Susan:
Welcome, Nevin. I'm excited to chat with you today.
Nevin:
Thanks for having me.
Susan:
Before we started recording, we were talking about where you're joining from. You mentioned Vancouver, which is a place that holds a special place in my heart even though I've never been there. For those who aren't familiar, why might someone think Vancouver is incredible from a nature and outdoor perspective?
Nevin:
Well, I'll clarify that I'm actually on Vancouver Island, not in the city of Vancouver. The city itself is a large metropolis in a beautiful setting, but then you take a ferry about an hour and forty-five minutes west to Vancouver Island.
The island has fewer than a million people and is quite large—about 450 miles long and up to 100 miles across. It's a big place.
We also have a fairly moderate climate regulated by the Pacific Ocean. At the southern end of the island, we rarely get snow, but within an hour or two you can be in the mountains. It's one of those places where you can golf, ski, surf, and hike all within the same season.
We have west coast rainforest, beaches, and forested trails. Personally, I like larger open spaces where you can see both prairies and mountains, but you can find that feeling in the northern part of the island if you go looking for it. It's a wonderful place for anyone who enjoys being outdoors.
Susan:
It sounds incredible. The diversity of landscapes and climates in one place is especially intriguing to me.
We're already grounding ourselves in nature, which feels fitting because that's what we're here to talk about.
One of the reasons I reached out is that you've spent much of your life thinking, writing, teaching, and researching in this space. I'd love to start at the beginning.
What was your early relationship with nature, and how did it become such an important focus in your life?
Nevin:
That's a good question.
I recently gave a presentation in the school district where I grew up. To help people understand where I came from, I shared some old photos of myself as a five-year-old standing beside a lake with a string of fish and my sister holding the other end.
I grew up just south of Canada's 60th parallel in northern Alberta. It was an oil-industry town where my parents moved in the 1960s. The community felt temporary. People weren't sure how long it would last, so most families lived in mobile homes.
More importantly, we lived in the middle of the forest.
It was completely normal to see moose, wolves, bears, and the occasional wolverine. Winters were long and dark. The sky was filled with Northern Lights.
As kids, we'd put on our one-piece snowmobile suits, head outside at night, make snow angels, and lie in the snow staring up at the sky. We could stay out there for an hour, completely insulated from the cold, until our parents called us home.
When I left at seventeen to attend college, I realized that wasn't how everyone grew up.
We only had one television channel and one radio station. I didn't have any real reference point for what life looked like elsewhere.
One weekend, some friends from my dorm said, "We're going to the Rockies."
I said, "Great. What are you doing there?"
They looked at me a little strangely and said, "We're just going to the Rockies."
My seventeen-year-old brain couldn't understand the question. If you're going somewhere, you're going there for something. Are you fishing? Hunting? Gathering firewood? Harvesting food?
It genuinely hadn't occurred to me that people would go simply to be there.
So I went with them.
What I quickly discovered was that they didn't necessarily have the outdoor skills to look after themselves in those environments, but I did. That became my entry point into outdoor leadership and guiding.
I've now been involved in outdoor recreation and outdoor education for nearly forty years.
Susan:
That's such a unique story.
What really stands out to me is the question you asked: "What are you going there for?"
It says so much about your relationship with nature and how different it was from theirs.
I'm going to be sitting with that one for a while.
Nevin:
What's interesting is that, looking back, it can sound extractive—as though nature existed only as a resource.
But the reality is that we didn't go to nature growing up.
We lived in it.
When there's a bull moose standing in your yard while you're trying to leave for school, nobody is making a special trip to experience nature. It's simply part of daily life.
There wasn't really a distinction between nature and not-nature. This was just where life happened.
Some activities were certainly resource-based. I still heat my home with firewood today because I live in an area with an active logging industry, and much of the wood would otherwise go to waste.
But as I started leading groups outdoors, I became more curious about what people were seeking when they left their homes and came into these places.
That's where my interest in nature connection really began.
For about ten years, I worked primarily with youth at risk and young offenders. We'd take groups of teenagers out of correctional facilities and spend nearly a month together in the wilderness.
We'd load up canoes, backpacks, food, and equipment and disappear into the mountains and rivers for weeks at a time.
The young people I worked with often struggled with belonging, confidence, school, family relationships, and success in traditional settings.
Out there, none of that mattered as much.
You had to be present.
You had to be relational.
You couldn't hide behind a professional role.
You were simply another person traveling through the wilderness alongside them.
And over time, I learned that groups can change remarkably when people work together toward a common purpose.
Susan:
Do you still take people outdoors in your practice?
Nevin:
I do.
I have a private practice and work primarily with young men, usually between eighteen and forty years old. That's not by design—I don't market myself as a men's counselor—but that's who seems to be showing up.
Many of them probably wouldn't see a counselor in a traditional office setting.
So we go for hikes. We sit on the beach. Sometimes we'll take lawn chairs and sit out on the sand when the tide is out.
Other times, the work is more activity-based. If we're focusing on self-regulation or awareness, we might intentionally use sensory experiences in the environment. It really depends on the individual and what they need.
There isn't a program or a formula.
It's simply nature-based counseling.
Susan:
It sounds delightful.
Just imagining sitting on a beach for a counseling session makes me feel more open and receptive. At the same time, I imagine for some people that would be unfamiliar enough that it might create a different kind of experience altogether.
Nevin:
Absolutely.
The people who come to see me already know what they're signing up for. They're choosing an outdoor experience from the beginning.
But even then, there are countless choices to make.
Someone might need to have a difficult conversation, and movement may not be the right fit. They may need to sit.
If that's the case, then we think carefully about the environment.
Do we sit somewhere with a wide, open view?
Do we choose a more sheltered place in the forest?
Do we sit near water?
Those decisions matter.
Sometimes we're walking and I notice a client's pace changing. They start walking faster as the conversation becomes more intense.
I might increase my pace to stay attuned to them.
Or I might intentionally slow down.
Eventually they'll notice and say, "Sorry."
And I'll tell them, "Don't apologize. I did that on purpose."
Then I might ask:
"Did you notice that as this conversation became more intense, you started walking faster?"
"Do you feel like you're trying to get away from something?"
That's a question I never would have thought to ask if we were sitting face-to-face in an office with a box of tissues between us.
Susan:
Right. Exactly.
Nevin:
That doesn't mean outdoor counseling is better.
No therapy is inherently better than another.
Nature isn't magical.
Nature isn't automatically healing.
Shark bites are nature.
Bee stings are nature.
Storms are nature.
Getting lost on a mountain is nature.
Nature can absolutely hurt you.
What matters is the relationship between the individual and the environment.
If someone has no connection to nature at all, maybe we don't begin with a hike.
Maybe we start with a found object.
Maybe it's a bone, a stone, a shell, or a feather.
We begin wherever they are.
The goal is helping people move from being stuck in their heads to reconnecting with their bodies and their lived experience.
You can absolutely do that in an office.
I just find it easier outdoors.
Susan:
That's interesting.
I was actually at a workshop recently about nature-based interventions for stress, anxiety, and burnout. One of the clinicians shared that they keep a treasure box of found objects in their office.
When you pulled out that bone earlier, it reminded me of that.
Nevin:
I do something similar.
I carry a small leather pouch filled with stones.
When I was working more with youth and families, I would often invite someone to choose a stone at the end of a session.
We'd talk about why they chose that particular one and what it represented to them.
Then I'd encourage them to carry it during the week.
The stone became a reminder of the conversation, their intentions, or what they wanted to remember.
Eventually, I'd ask them to return it when they no longer needed it.
It's really a form of meaning-making.
The object itself isn't special.
The meaning attached to it is.
Susan:
That's beautiful.
Nevin:
It's also sensory.
The feel of a stone in your pocket is similar to the role people sometimes get from a fidget tool.
When I started working with young people in the 1990s, we spent a lot of time thinking about the senses.
Smell, touch, sound—these things are powerful.
A scent can trigger a memory instantly.
A texture can ground us.
The outdoors gives us access to those experiences in a very natural way.
Could you recreate some of it indoors?
Sure.
But it's much harder.
Susan:
It really is.
Sometimes I wonder if people don't even realize there's another way of experiencing the world because they've spent so much time in built environments.
It's almost like your college friends. Nature simply isn't part of their daily experience.
Nevin:
Exactly.
And that's why experiences need to be gradual.
People can become overwhelmed if we move too quickly.
I often think about that famous scene in National Lampoon's Vacation where Chevy Chase stops at the Grand Canyon.
He steps out of the car, looks for a few seconds, nods his head, and says, "Okay, let's go."
I've had experiences like that myself.
I remember learning whitewater canoeing and paddling through spectacular canyons.
The scenery was incredible.
But I was terrified.
I was so focused on not flipping my canoe that I couldn't appreciate any of it.
Someone would say, "Look how beautiful it is in here."
And I wouldn't even look up.
I didn't yet have the skills or confidence to relax enough to notice the environment.
Later, when I returned with more experience, I could finally see what everyone else had been talking about.
That's why curiosity matters.
We can't assume someone is having the same experience we're having.
We have to ask.
We have to remain curious.
And we have to meet people where they are.
Susan:You've written several books. Is there one you'd especially like to talk about today?
Nevin:
Yes.
Not just because it's the most recent, but because it's the work I feel most passionate about.
The book is called Kids These Days.
It's really a non-parenting parenting book. It's written for adults and focuses on the systems and environments we've created that may be contributing to challenges in children's health and wellbeing.
The title comes from that phrase every generation seems to use:
"Kids these days..."
Kids these days aren't resilient.
Kids these days don't respect their elders.
Kids these days are always on their phones.
Whatever the complaint happens to be.
Originally, that phrase was just a working title, but we kept it because we discovered that people have been saying some version of it for thousands of years.
Apparently Socrates was complaining about young people not respecting their elders.
Kurt Hahn, the founder of Outward Bound, was writing about the moral decline of youth nearly a century ago.
Every generation seems convinced the next one is somehow worse.
And yet every generation goes on to contribute, innovate, and adapt in ways the previous generation never imagined.
Susan:
That's fascinating.
Nevin:
Our core argument is simple.
Children and adolescents are responding to the environments adults have created around them.
So why do we spend so much time blaming the kids?
One of the endorsements for the book came from Bruce Perry, whose work many people know.
One of his guiding questions is:
"What's happened to you?"
rather than
"What's wrong with you?"
That's a shift from a medical model to a contextual model.
It recognizes that environments, relationships, culture, and experiences all influence how people develop.
Children are supposed to struggle.
Adolescence is supposed to be messy.
Young people are trying to figure out who they are.
That's normal.
What concerns us is that we've become so focused on protecting children from risk that we've also removed many of the experiences that help them grow.
Outdoor play.
Risky play.
Rough-and-tumble play.
Independent exploration.
Many of those opportunities have largely disappeared.
Susan:
Mm-hmm.
Nevin:
At the same time, we hear constant discussion about a youth mental health crisis.
And to be clear, we're not denying that young people struggle.
We see it every day.
We're therapists.
But we also ask harder questions.
Adults have access to more therapists, more counselors, more wellness resources, more mindfulness programs, more self-help content, and more mental health information than ever before.
So why do we assume the story is as simple as "kids are getting worse"?
Maybe the issue is more complicated.
Maybe part of the story involves how we measure distress.
Maybe it involves how we label experiences.
Maybe it involves the environments we've created.
We often point to social media or cell phones as the cause, but there are dozens of interacting factors.
It's never just one thing.
Susan:
Right.
Nevin:
Young people today grow up learning the language of mental health much earlier than previous generations.
That was done with good intentions.
We wanted to reduce stigma.
We wanted people to know it's okay to ask for help.
Those are good things.
But it also means young people are exposed to diagnostic language much earlier.
They search online.
Algorithms feed them more information.
They begin interpreting themselves through labels.
And then adults measure and reinforce those labels.
Again, this isn't an argument against mental health support.
It's an argument for nuance.
The reality is more complex than most headlines suggest.
That's probably why the book won't become a bestseller.
People often want simple explanations.
They want one cause and one solution.
We couldn't bring ourselves to write that kind of book.
Susan:
I don't find that boring at all.
I find it incredibly important.
Nevin:
Thank you.
For me, the book feels like the culmination of many parts of my life—being a parent, a counselor, an educator, and someone who has spent decades working outdoors with young people.
And in the end, many of the recommendations are remarkably simple.
Spend more time outdoors.
Move your body.
Play.
Take risks.
Build relationships.
Create opportunities for belonging.
The evidence supporting those things continues to grow.
Thousands of studies now point in similar directions.
And yet what they're telling us isn't particularly new.
They're reminding us of things humans have known for a very long time.
Susan:
That really resonates.
Nevin:
I grew up in a community of about 350 people.
Nature wasn't a program.
It wasn't a curriculum.
It wasn't an intervention.
It was simply life.
And now we find ourselves creating courses, workshops, and professional training programs to help people reconnect with experiences that were once ordinary.
When I had to explain the importance of my research during a university promotion process, I remember thinking:
All I'm really doing is encouraging people to go outside and be active.
That's the thread connecting education, wellbeing, healing, and health.
It's that simple.
And yet people keep asking me to explain it.
That's the part I find most amusing.
Susan:
As we're talking, I'm thinking about my own son.
He's twenty now and has been navigating that period after high school where you're trying to figure out who you are and what comes next.
For a while he was in therapy and eventually decided he wanted to stop.
I respected that decision, but I asked one thing in return.
I asked him to walk outside with me for at least an hour each week, in chunks of at least twenty minutes.
Part of that was nature.
Part of it was that we weren't sitting across from each other making eye contact the entire time.
And honestly, it's been a game changer.
He's doing much better.
So when you hear that story, what comes to mind for parents and grandparents who want to connect with young people through nature?
Nevin:
The first thing that comes to mind is not telling them it's going to help.
Not because it won't, but because the relationship comes first.
The invitation has to be authentic.
It has to be:
"I want to spend time with you."
Not:
"I need to fix you."
Sometimes it also helps to create experiences that feel interesting or novel.
My wife and I still have an eighteen-year-old and a twenty-two-year-old at home.
Whenever we mention going somewhere, they're usually eager to join us.
They'll even pay their own way now.
That's a good sign.
But the experiences almost always involve being outdoors in some way.
What's interesting is that many young people naturally pull away from some of those family activities as they begin establishing their own identities.
That's normal.
Research suggests that if outdoor activities were meaningful during childhood, many people return to them later in life—especially once they have children of their own.
So my advice would be:
Keep inviting.
Don't force it.
Don't make it a requirement.
Focus on the relationship.
Belonging comes first.
Then look for opportunities where they can experience success, confidence, challenge, or enjoyment.
That might be paddleboarding.
It might be hiking.
It might be climbing.
It doesn't really matter what the activity is.
The relationship is the important part.
Susan:
I love that.
Get outside, but don't mandate it.
Focus on the connection.
Before we wrap up, is there anything else you'd like to share?
Nevin:
I think it's important to acknowledge that this isn't always easy.
People have different levels of access.
Where we live matters.
What resources we have matters.
And not everyone can simply move to a rural area or spend all their time outdoors.
At the same time, I do think there is something appealing about smaller communities.
Many young people are finding cities increasingly expensive and difficult to live in.
Some smaller towns are beginning to feel attractive again.
I'd love to see a revival of some of those communities.
When young families move into small towns, the whole place can come alive.
And with that often comes easier access to nature, community, and outdoor experiences.
For people living in cities, the answer may look different.
Find the parks.
Find the trails.
Create walking routes.
Build nature into your daily life as much as possible.
It doesn't have to be complicated.
Natural Favorites
Susan:
A place in nature that feels like home to you. The challenge is that you only get one.
Nevin:
My fire pit in the backyard.
We've lived on the same property for fifteen years, which is the longest I've ever lived anywhere.
When our children were young, we stopped traveling quite as much and spent more time at home.
Friends would come over, we'd light a fire, and we'd sit together outside.
When I think of home, that's what comes to mind.
Susan:
A sound in nature you never tire of hearing.
Nevin:
A red-tailed hawk.
It's funny because movies often use the sound of a red-tailed hawk when they're showing an eagle.
Wildlife people notice those things immediately.
But whenever I hear a red-tailed hawk, I stop.
For me, it's like a Zen bell.
Susan:
A plant, tree, or animal you resonate with and why.
Nevin:
A wolf.
As I learned more about wolves over the years, I became fascinated by their loyalty, family structures, leadership, and relationships.
Those qualities resonated with me.
Whether I discovered those characteristics because I identified with them or identified with them because I learned about wolves, I'm not entirely sure.
But I've always felt a strong connection there.
Susan:
Last question.
Imagine you're holding a dandelion that's gone to seed.
You get one wish for nature and humanity.
What would it be?
Nevin:
I think it would be a return to recognizing that we're all part of the same human family.
Before nationality.
Before politics.
Before race.
Before all the categories we create.
Just remembering our shared humanity.
That's probably the wish.
Susan:
I love that.
Thank you so much for joining me today.
Nevin:
Thanks for having me.
