Letting Nature Lead

Letting Nature Lead: Seeking Awe and Healing With A Breath of Fresh Air

Rachel Hunsell * Program Manager, TAPS Outdoor Engagement * Surviving Sister of Marine Corps LCpl J. Kyle Price

It’s time to get outside and take a deep Breath of Fresh Air — on the coast, in the woods, along the river, on the prairie, in the park, and out your front door. Whether 60 seconds or 60 minutes, time in nature is critical to our well-being, providing lasting impacts, like reduced stress, anxiety, and isolation, and increased social connection and enhanced mood. Add a dose of awe, and you have a prescription for improved overall well-being and a heart and mind open to new perspectives. 

Nature is the great teacher — the great companion, the great reflection. What we see in nature often allows us to find what we seek within ourselves.  

Like the Tide

The tide rolls in much faster than you expect. You think you have time — that it’s slow — but it’s constantly moving, ebbing and flowing, taking over more and more beach by the minute. You sit to watch for just a while, then the water meets your feet, and you realize you’ve been enamored — captivated by the undulation, the soundscapes, the salty air, the way you feel whole and connected. You’re truly in awe, wondering how the seconds turned to minutes, then hours. 

For two weeks, our family traveled along the Pacific Coast Highway as part of an epic, awe-inspiring, eight-week Breath of Fresh Air Road Trip across the nation. Starting in southern Illinois, then traveling west to the coast just north of Los Angeles, before heading north to Oregon, back east to Maine, and culminating in Arlington, Virginia, at the TAPS National Military Survivor Seminar, we connected families with the healing power of nature.

In 58 days, we visited over 20 national parks and countless national forests, public lands, and waters. We made camp in desert canyons, coastal forests, vast prairies, woodlands, and wetlands. On military installations, campgrounds, and dispersed, rugged sites, we took in mountain views, ocean soundscapes, birdsong, conversation, laughter, and connection. We packed up each morning and hit the road to a new place with new people, new vistas, and new environments. Each day, we opened our hearts to new experiences, talked through challenges, shared memories and dreams, and gifted ourselves with present-moment living. Each evening, we set up camp, started a fire, and marveled at the stars above.

Like the tide, we felt the end of our time on the road hit our feet before we expected, yet we knew the time we spent traveling the northern half of the United States changed us. Like the tide, it washed away much of the suffering we carried, the expectations of others, and the ways of living that never really served us. And, with the tide came opportunity, a newfound flexibility and openness to life’s relentless movement. Connecting with hundreds of survivors, both in person and online, we were continuously inspired and reminded that we are never alone on this journey. In the darkness of grief, there is always another survivor standing shoulder-to-shoulder with you, ready to let in the light when we need it most.

Watching the waves, I see life, both literally and metaphorically. Inside, there is such vitality, power, and complexity — always moving, always adapting. Looking out past the breaking waves, though, far off into the distance, there is a stillness in this somewhat chaotic scene — a knowing that movement is life. Challenge and celebration, deep grief and full life, are meant to be held all at once. Watching the waves has me overcome with awe.

We Are All Connected

Writing this, I’m sitting along the coast of Northern California. My brother would have been 39 years old today. I don’t know that he ever saw anything like this, but I do know that he’s here with me. They are all with me — my brothers, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, and the hundreds of loved ones shared with me by my fellow survivors. Every single one of them, I feel here, watching the tide roll in wave after wave.

The most healing I’ve experienced in my journey was rooted in the awe of nature, mindful movement, and opening myself up to a deep knowing I’ve always had: We are all connected. “Going outdoors” and “getting outside” are really just methods of returning to ourselves. Connecting with nature is ultimately connecting with ourselves and the entire ecosystem inside our bodies and minds that needs care, community, and space for growth and evolution.

This is at the heart of my work, my healing, my purpose — one that my dear brother, Kyle, helped guide me to. Getting A Breath of Fresh Air is more than the act of filling your lungs with life, a 90-second video on social media, or a tool-packed newsletter. This initiative is an invitation to return to yourself, to nature. It is an invitation to begin a practice of opening yourself up to awe in everyday life. It’s learning that grief and life mimic the ever-moving ocean waves; the ever-shaping sandstone walls of desert canyons; the ever-resilient redwood trees; the gritty, steadfast ways that nature and you continue to show up every single day — choosing to truly be alive instead of just existing.

PHOTOS: TAPS Archives