I (Katy) have two young boys, ages 5 and 7; they are loud, rambunctious, curious, physical, and full of pulsating energy. Typically, when we are inside the house, they fight over toys, they call each other names, they hit each other, they struggle to entertain themselves, and their voices are much louder than the space can handle. I can easily feel irritated and overwhelmed at these times, exacerbated by the never-ending demands of chores I need to focus on. I find myself getting caught in cycles of negative feedback and mediation, nagging, saying no much more often than I would like, and raising my voice in a way I didn’t expect in my imagined parenthood. Does this sound familiar to anyone? Now take the very same two boys, and the very same mother, and put them on a forest trail. The kids’ voices are absorbed into the layers of wood and leaves; they can be loud and wild, and I can breathe deeply. Their pulsating energy is released as they run, hide, and climb—exploring every intriguing stump, hole, and mushroom they find. They don’t hurt each other; they are kinder; they follow each other and laugh; and there is nothing to fight over, except the odd super awesome stick ... luckily there’s always more to discover around the corner. My older son is in his pure element here, appreciating all the beauty around him, and feeling confident in his body as he discovers the undulation of the land. Take these same two kids to the beach, and they dig in the sand and jump in waves, find crabs, precious rocks and wild seaweed—and they are happy for hours. They are never “bored,” and they don’t ask for screen time. This mother is delighted by the ocean, peaceful and capable of handling anything. The difference between my indoor family and my outdoor family experience is striking; it is the reason I take my kids into nature as much as possible. Nature is where we bond; it is where our nervous systems are regulated by the surrounding rhythms, where my children can step fully into their physical selves in a healthy and appropriate way—where we are all fed and loved by our collective “mother.”
Drawing from my experiences, I know that the well-being of myself personally, and my family as a whole, depends on a balance of work and play, of relaxing time at home and physical adventures that allow my children to be their wild selves. I have a sense that if chores, work, screens, and overwhelm dominate the family experience, then the lasting effect of stress on the whole family system can be damaging. The most common diagnoses in children entering into our practice are anxiety, ADHD, and general emotional dysregulation (often creating challenges at home and school). Families are seeking help for managing these issues in children as young as 5 years old—an age when they should ideally still be living out their days shielded from the darkness in the world, worry free, and full of imagination and play. We propose that it can be helpful, if not essential, to the mental health practitioner to both view and address these problems within the wider systemic lens of family, society, and ecological relations.
In family therapy, the presenting symptoms and relational conflict we address can often be traced back to early childhood attachment wounds that continue to impact healthy family functioning. Significant stresses such as early separation from birth parents (i.e., losses such as death, divorce, and adoption), parental mental illness, family violence, and neglect can all impact a family’s early days. It has long been established that damage to the secure parent-infant attachment can have lasting effects on the child’s developing brain and socio-emotional capacities.1 The importance of that formative bond, which communicates to a baby that they are safe, seen, and nurtured, allows the child to begin confidently exploring and knowing her environment. The reciprocal and responsive gaze and the sharing of smiles set forth the neural connections in the right hemisphere for empathy and caring. When disruptions to this early attunement pattern occur, it causes confusion, fear, and uncertainty. Needs are not always met, cries go unanswered, smiles unrequited—and the child may learn to not always trust her environment or rely on her caregivers; her sense of bonding and belonging to her world is shaky. We should clarify here that our notion of family is not one of modern Western society’s “nuclear family” and may be composed in numerous combinations of significant others. Santanya’s idea of family being a “masterpiece of nature” still rings true for us, regardless of composition, in that it has the capacity to support, encourage, and stick with us through our difficult times.
We can find parallels in this process to our human relationship with the original parent, our Mother Earth. Our attachment and attunement with the cycles of Earth (diurnal patterns of day and night, moon phases, seasonal changes), which at one time in human history may have been deep and unwavering, are now in a state of “dis-ease.” In Western society, with our dualistic Cartesian roots, we are often taught from the youngest age that we are not part of the living Earth but simply using it for our benefit and satisfaction. That initial feeling of complete belonging and oneness with the world is severed early on in our culture, leaving us with an insecure attachment where humans are habitually acting from fear, trying to extract resources for our needs, rather than knowing that reciprocity with our Earth mother begets caring and sustenance. As Anita Barrows so eloquently articulates, “It is indeed the illusion of bodily separateness that is the genuine sorrow, that accounts for our loneliness, and isolates us and leads us to exploit and violate one another, the world we live in, and, ultimately, ourselves.”2
Thus, it is the great potential to discover one’s essential belonging to the Earth that is the unique and beneficial healing power of nature-based approaches. And when working with family systems through this lens, we have the inimitable opportunity to work on both levels simultaneously: healing the parent-child attachment wounds as well as the family’s human-Earth attachment wounds. When we step away from isolating the child in his pain and address his struggles within the larger family and community system, of which he is inextricably linked, we are honoring the true nature of ecosystems—just as we could never restore an ailing apple tree without considering the nutrients of the soil, the climate, the insect community, and neighboring species. And while considering the importance of family systems is now a more widely accepted therapeutic practice, extending our assessment of the presenting problems to the child’s and family’s relationship with the natural world is less common. We have already described the multitude of ways that nature can be woven into the healing process with children and youth, and we have found that when families can experience this process together, the impact and lasting results can be even greater.
One existing model of bringing families together outdoors for therapeutic intent can be found in wilderness therapy as outdoor family therapy “intensives.”3 These brief and powerful encounters can provide insight and momentum for the family trying to adapt to their changing youth but are also limited by the duration, cost, and distance of service provision, all affecting the transference of meaningful change to the home context. Our experience with these “add-on” models of family therapy encouraged us to develop an approach to serve local families as a whole when we can. This nature-based model of practice differs from an adjunct (or add-on to therapy) approach in that we aim to bring families together and into connection with nature on a regular basis, within their own communities, and adaptable to their work and school schedules. By meeting with families outdoors weekly or bi-weekly, we can continually integrate learning into their daily lives, provide support for extended periods of time, and work with all ages of kids in developmentally appropriate ways. In this approach, it is not just the child who may gain self-awareness and a new sense of connection in the world; it becomes a shared experience of success and transformation between parents and children. As the saying goes, “Families who play together, stay together,” and the essence of nature-based therapy is to give families the opportunity to play and explore the natural world in shared appreciation. Louise Chawla,4 from the Children, Youth and Environments Center at the University of Colorado, has repeatedly asserted that one of the most significant factors that predicts future pro-environmental behavior is when children have had positive experiences outdoors with a caring adult. She suggests that when adults share special places with children, they are equally showing their deep care for the child and nature.
This chapter introduces you to the potential benefits of bringing families into nature to share together in the therapeutic process. We will discuss why this approach may be a good choice for your practice and describe some key elements we have found useful for setting up successful nature-based family therapy sessions.
As with most traditional therapeutic services, family therapy is ordinarily provided within the confines of an office setting. The room likely has couches, and maybe some toys and art supplies, and the general expectation is that family members are mostly sitting in the room for an hour of therapy. The benefits of the containment and focus provided by this space are certainly evident—but there are the occasions where a room and chairs can be limiting and may even serve to amplify the large energy that family dynamics are bound to produce. Many therapists have experienced that moment of intimidation when entering a family session, carrying the responsibility for a positive outcome, and hoping that all family members will be willing to participate, both young and old. It is likely that those family members, and especially the kids, are entering with even more trepidation for the experience than you, carrying with them all the uncertainties of being asked to be vulnerable in front of a “professional helper.” The experiential approach of nature-based therapy is effective at breaking down many of the barriers at the outset of family therapy, especially from the kids’ perspective. Children and youth, who may normally be resistant to engaging in therapy, might be enticed by the idea that they will be playing at a beach or visiting a favorite park with their family. Depending on the child, the chance to move their bodies, play, and expel energy during a session can be more developmentally appropriate than being asked to sit attentively on a couch for sixty minutes to talk about feelings and problems. Because the very nature of being outside brings the client to be mobile, physical, engage multiple senses, and interact with the external environment, it becomes more possible to encourage clients to make mind-body connections and to show up authentically. Children, youth, and even adults who have limited verbal expression or capacity for introspection can find ways to participate and contribute to the process, whereas, in an office setting with the whole family, the child or parent may feel put on the spot and freeze up. As family members encourage one another through a group challenge, or find themselves laughing while playing hide-and-seek in the woods, they inadvertently let down their protective defenses, and corrective experiences are made possible. As discussed previously in chapters 5 and 6, the state of play is a pathway to healing in the nervous system, as well as a tool to bring our bodies and minds into the present moment and out of negative thinking patterns and emotions.
Additionally, for many of the kids in our practice, their struggles tend to show up in the context of formal settings of authority where the expectation for sitting and listening is a priority (e.g., school). Therefore, to begin a therapeutic relationship where they are expected to do the very same action that puts them in a state of shame and dysregulation does not necessarily set them up for success. By meeting kids in environments where they feel safe (and ideally close to home) and are more likely to thrive, and giving parents a chance to witness them in that state, we can set the stage for a bonding and healing experience between parent and child.
For example, 7-year-old Ralph had been referred to us for treatment of anxiety, as well as behavior problems presenting at school. He had also been frequently getting into conflict with family members due to his tendency to invade personal boundaries and his constant desire for attention. This little guy was always on the move, eager to explore, and full of knowledge and curiosity for the natural world. Ralph was not very interested in trying counseling and had rejected an earlier attempt with an office-based counselor after the first two sessions. His parents knew that he thrived most outdoors and chose one of his favorite beaches for the first session, a place they knew he would be comfortable. The first few sessions were led by Ralph’s fascination for the intertidal zone, and the counselor encouraged his parents to share in his excitement as they explored together, guided by missions that inspired the senses. (See chapter 7 for the Nature Detective initiative.) Through his relationship with the crabs and sea anemones, we were able to safely explore vulnerable topics such as boundaries, emotional expression with his parents, and bullying at school. By taking Ralph into a space where his strengths and heart shone, his family was able to more easily enter into sensitive topics that would typically end in arguments. Both mom and dad had experiences of connecting with Ralph in new ways and came out of therapy understanding him better. By participating in the nature-based therapy process together, the family could also develop a shared language for taking charge of anxiety at home, and in school.
You might wonder which ages of kids or family combinations are the best fit for nature-based family work. We do find that, when working with younger children (~ages 6 to 11), situating the majority of nature-based therapy within the family context is effective and developmentally appropriate. The younger the kids, the more likely we would conduct sessions with at least one parent, and in some cases, when content appropriate, with siblings as well. Young children tend to have less insight and language to express their emotional worlds, and part of our work is to find ways to help them develop that expression. Sharing those moments of awareness with the parent present, and coaching the parent to validate that child’s feelings, can mean that transference of the new skill, language, or understanding back to the home is more attainable. In family therapy, we are working toward open, honest, and clear communication among family members; and having family members present in counseling together really fosters the practice of this communication. If a problem that is continually showing up at home is getting in the way of healthy family functioning (e.g., getting ready for school without a fight), we can practice problem-solving through fun interactive means in an outdoor activity and then move to problem-solving new practical solutions for home. At its essence, however, including the parents in the nature-based therapy process is about fostering healthy attachment. We are modeling how to play, follow the child’s lead, and mirror their emotional states, as well as encouraging moments of positive connection between parent and child. The more connected the child feels to their parents, the more available they are to enter into difficult conversations. The parent’s presence also demonstrates commitment and a willingness to be vulnerable too, especially through play. As much as the parent gets to learn more about their child’s inner world during nature-based therapy, so too the child gets the chance to discover more about the parent’s thoughts and feelings. They might witness their parent being nervous about a blindfolded sensory activity or watch them getting uncomfortably dirty when hiding in a bush for a game that the child loves; these moments can lead to beautiful conversations about courage, discomfort, honesty, and boundaries. The process of counseling can be a very scary prospect, as it asks us to be vulnerable and expose our shadow sides to a person outside of our close circle. When parents join their children in this process, it demonstrates to the child that they alone are not the problem and that the family is in this growth process together.
With older children (ages 12 and up), we might suggest family sessions at the outset, in order to establish safety, expectations, and open communication, before shifting to individual sessions once the youth is more comfortable with the therapist and the location(s). We certainly have to be aware that meeting a child/youth in an outdoor setting is very different from when a parent brings their child to an office and then waits for them outside in the hall. We have to ensure that the youth feels a sense of safety and ease within the chosen setting and that they can build trust with the therapist in this context. Of course, this changes on a case-by-case basis, depending on the presenting needs for counseling. For example, a youth who experiences high anxiety may request to have a parent present for longer and then slowly move toward one-to-one sessions when they are ready. A different youth may not want their parent present at all in the beginning, especially when the youth’s concerns are centered in family dynamics issues and trust has been eroded. In this case, we may begin the counseling process one-to-one with the youth and then invite the parents to join in sessions once the youth feels they have built the confidence and self-awareness to engage in difficult conversations with them. In that scenario, the nature-based setting can become a neutral setting, one outside of the home and offices, where adults often wield power. When the nature setting has become a powerful resource for that youth, then the opportunity for them to demonstrate their connection, knowledge, and skills within the nature context can be very empowering.
There are myriad issues relevant to family process that can be addressed by nature-based therapy for families, including emotional expression, accountability, conflict resolution, boundaries, self-regulation, shifting family roles, grief and loss, self-esteem, trust, routines, managing anxiety and depression, and school stress. Once the family has identified those issues important to them, the therapist can plan for activities that will elicit experiences relating to those themes and that are appropriate to the family’s emotional and physical needs. There is no simple prescription in nature-based therapy informing the therapist of the perfect intervention for each family issue. With a slight alteration in framing, any one activity can be adjusted to highlight several different topics, and for any one topic, there are countless variations of activities that may be suitable. The ability to be creative, spontaneous, and flexible is a strength required of a nature-based therapist, as the therapist must be constantly adapting to the presenting state of family members, the environment, the weather, and the arising needs. As working with multiple family members normally requires increased containment and directives, in therapy, we find it helpful to approach family sessions with a vision and plan and then be ready and willing to completely alter that plan based on what comes up. As we know, plans are only maps, not the territory.
The next section offers a progression one might follow when setting up a family session for success in nature, based loosely on these four stages:
• Family check-in
• Games
• Focused therapeutic activity
• Closing and debriefing
This is just a general guide and obviously not prescriptive to every single family or session. Because we are always first and foremost client-centered, we would consider our client’s ecological assessment and therapy goals and always be willing to follow what arises in the moment. Each stage will be explored with case examples from our practice.
We make the intention to begin each family session with some form of check-in that gives each individual a voice and a chance for the family members and the therapist to get a sense of everyone’s present emotional and physical state. This awareness will help to guide the subsequent direction of the session and may elicit a current problem or a present dynamic that the therapist had been unaware of. Of course, being nature-based, we don’t simply ask “How is everyone doing?” Instead we partner with the natural world to provide a variety of languages of expression for the children and parents to draw upon. Bringing in metaphor is a favorite tool for eliciting awareness of the client’s present state, and two forms are common. One is to request them to relate their internal state to a natural process (e.g., What weather system would you be today? What animal do you feel like right now?). A second form is to draw from the direct environment for inspiration, asking the family members to each find a tree, pick up a leaf, or discover any plant, rock, or part of the surrounding that could express their current state. This method is especially helpful when a child is hesitant to speak, and they can simply pick up, or point, to a natural being around them. It is amazing the insight that can be drawn from such a simple activity, and often the client even discovers something new about themselves in the process.
Jen, 12 years old, and her single father were attending family therapy for the treatment of Jen’s severe social anxiety. Her nervousness in social situations extended to school, public interactions, family gatherings, and crowded events. Her anxiety got in the way of her confidence to speak with anyone beyond her closest friends and family—and likewise she was very quiet in therapy as well. We often met at a local lake, a setting that was a resource in Jen’s life, exploring the lakeshore and trails together as a window to conversation—though Jen often tried to turn to her father to provide answers for her. For our check-in one day, Katy suggested that we each find an object on or near the trail that represented how we were feeling that day. After a few minutes of exploring, Jen picked up a knotted brown clump of plant roots and expressed that this is how it feels to be inside of her mind. When asked for further descriptors, Jen shared about the confusion and frustration that she felt on a constant basis. This visual, and its opening to further explanation, was more than she had been able to previously share about her internal state—both with the counselor and her father. This was an understanding of her interior experience that I might not have learned about if Katy expected her to express herself in words alone. Sometimes the check-in alone can hold enough significant content and energy that it can morph into a full session.
We almost always turn to interactive and playful games as the next step in a family session. Even those “too cool” 13- and 14-year-olds can’t resist a good hiding or sneaking game that gives them a chance to show off their speed, strength, or sneaking skills. The pleasure that shows on a child’s face when the parents are asked to play with them is palpable: diving into the dirt together, hiding behind trees and giggling, or chasing their dad around a field. This is the moment where we are working on healing attachment, where family play elicits our ventral vagal neural network, the mirror neurons fire, and that feeling of being loved and attuned tightens the family threads. Jennifer Kolari, child and family therapist and author of Connected Parenting,5 presents a convincing case for the importance of rough-and-tumble play with your child, no matter how old, especially when the bond is thin from cyclical negative interactions. She often assigns parents to the task of instigating adrenaline play (e.g., chasing games, pillow fights) and baby play (e.g., tickling, horsey rides) as pathways to increased connection with their kids. As prolific developmental psychologist Gordon Neufeld and physician Gabor Maté write in their classic parenting book, Hold On to Your Kids,6 the move toward peer orientation versus parent orientation is one of the most threatening trends to a child’s emotional health. What better way to bring a child back into your fold than by laughing and playing together? Just imagine the feeling in your own heart when you have a good laugh with your child (or remember laughing with your parent), when you let go of inhibitions and exhaustion and just get silly. It’s the stuff that children crave but that we too often let slide due to the constant demands and exhaustion of schedules, chores, work—all the things that lead us to impatience, demands, and disengagement. Along with family bonding, the early introduction of games serves further purposes. Play helps to disarm resistance in the child, opening them to the process and strengthening their connection with the counselor and nature as allies—building comfort, trust, and familiarity. It can also help to release any jitters or nervousness, allowing the child to move energy through their bodies so that they can be more receptive to focused learning or sharing afterward.
We aim to pick games that can highlight the strengths of the child and set them up for success rather than struggle or failure. That does not mean it can’t be challenging but that we can scaffold the game in a way that they will eventually succeed, ideally in collaboration with the parent(s). In this way, we are building the family members’ self-esteem, emphasizing strengths, and fostering connective experiences. Integrated into the chosen games, we can apply our framing, debriefing, and metaphoric skills to add layers of meaning that relate to the family’s experience.
Some kids also come to therapy with a knack for creating new games, and you can simply follow their lead (though sometimes you need to adjust the rules and boundaries to ensure safety and inclusion). It can be inspiring to watch a kid being so excited to come to therapy because he has been thinking all week about the game he wants to play (often some version of tag, dodgeball, and hide-and-seek). With families, this often ends up being a process of modeling to the parent how to follow the kid’s interest, engage fully in play, and be flexible. I (Katy) have worked with several parents who are very uncomfortable in this state—they have not engaged in physical play with their child in a long time—and thus it becomes a chance for the kids to witness their parents stepping out of their comfort zone to connect with their children. Many learning opportunities for problem solving and conflict resolution inevitably emerge during games, as boundaries are crossed and rules are broken, fairness is navigated, and the capacity to handle “losing” builds resilience. Last, these engaging games also carry with them the possibilities for therapeutic relationship development and engagement of the therapist with the client and family system.
A very simple and fun way to introduce nature-based play that works well in a forested trail setting is Ambush and Flash Flood. This game can be introduced at the outset of a session and then returned to periodically to help blend focused attention and frustration with movement and release. It involves inviting the clients to call out the words “Ambush” or “Flash Flood” at any time along the trail, and then participants have to respond accordingly. “Ambush” means that everyone gets ten seconds to run up the trail and hide within a couple of meters of the trail. The caller then walks by, trying to spot the hiders; if the hiders are not seen, they can jump out and yell “Ambush” to surprise the seeker. When “Flash Flood” is called out, everyone has to jump onto something a few feet off the ground. Ten-year-old Robbie and his mother, Jan, had been referred to nature-based therapy because Robbie was having ongoing negative interactions with teachers and the principal at school and had been diagnosed with ADHD and anxiety. He had low awareness of his impact on other people and a difficult time verbalizing his internal struggles with anxiety to his mother. Robbie was open to the idea of meeting with the counselor but not exactly eager to jump into discussing problems, but he certainly loved exploring outdoors. Jan was often caught in a pattern of correcting and redirecting Robbie, concerned with his manners and his ability to listen to adults and follow instructions. To help her become more relaxed and move into connection (rather than correction) with Robbie, the counselor introduced Ambush and Flash Flood. Robbie was eager at the opportunity to play this game and loved calling out the words along the trail for the pleasure of seeing his mother and counselor jump up on logs and hide behind trees along with him. Laughter inevitably ensues from this game, releasing the sense of pressure and tension involved in the formality of counseling. This game helped to build rapport with the counselor and also let Robbie witness his mother in a playful state, even being surprised by her skills at jumping and hiding. The spontaneity of this game meant that the therapist, Robbie, or his mother could be the leader at any point, thus shifting out of a power dynamic where the therapist is always in control. Eventually the trail took us to a creek, where we stopped to find rocks that could help Robbie represent the various “problems” that were getting in the way of his success at school. After releasing his energy, and being in his joyful place, Robbie was then willing to open up and name some of the things he was struggling with.
This next stage varies widely and is completely responsive to the identified therapeutic goals, emerging issues/concerns, and present emotional state of the family. Depending on their needs, we might move toward some form of psycho-education (e.g., to work on emotion-regulation, coping with anxiety), family initiatives (for addressing trust, communication, problem solving, etc.), or sensory awareness activities (to develop attention, mindfulness, stress-reduction, nature connection, and family bonding).
Psycho-education: We find that having the family together when learning these skills and concepts is valuable, as it provides a shared language that they can continue applying outside of the therapy session. Of course, while occasionally some paper and markers are helpful (especially for the art-oriented clients), we still provide psycho-education within an experiential framework, so as to integrate the information on both the mind and body levels. The Zones of Development (i.e., comfort, challenge, danger as described in chapter 5) is a concept we introduce to almost every family we work with. This model provides a framework for the therapeutic process of growth, for bringing awareness to the areas in their lives where they succeed/struggle, and for encouraging openness among family members. We also find it quite valuable to teach families about the fight/flight/freeze functions of the nervous system (also described in chapter 5). Most clients come to us for help with emotion regulation, and we find that providing both parents and kids with a shared knowledge of our basic mammalian survival responses can greatly assist in developing self-awareness and empathy. To help clients tune into their unique emotional/physical sensations as they relate to the various states of stress response, we often encourage kids and parents to map out the fight/flight/freeze on a body drawing, using colors and shapes to identify where and how their body responds to fear, anger, sadness, joy, etc. For some kids, however, even the task of drawing can be difficult to focus on, and our creativity as nature-based practitioners is called into action, as illustrated by the following case.
Riley, a 9-year-old boy diagnosed with ADHD, had a body constantly in motion, just vibrating with energy, and a lack of awareness for other people’s personal space. He was getting into increasing conflicts with his father as well as repeated incidents with peers in school, which were drawing attention and concern. Riley also had a giant heart, was sensitive and caring, and held a deep appreciation for nature and its multitude of creatures. The therapist was inspired by his talent for embodying various animals and introduced the fight/flight/freeze response by asking him to act out different animals (bunny, deer, lion, wolf, hedgehog, turtle, snake). The therapist enacted the animals with him (matching and mirroring him), and then his dad was asked to enter into the scene as the predator, or challenger, of that animal (in a playful manner). Riley and the therapist would then respond to that threat in the same way that each specific animal would typically respond. For example, a rabbit happily nibbling on grasses would suddenly bolt and hide behind a rock when a coyote appears. The scenes were easily amplified by the natural landscape in which we played (a treed meadow with rocky outcroppings). In this manner, Riley was able to experience the various states of arousal somatically (rather than just on a cognitive level) and could easily relate to the different animals upon reflection; he realized that he sometimes reacted like a lion and other times like a rabbit. Riley and his parents were able to identify which animals they most often turned into under stress, as well as which animals they see in one another. This approach brings in a lightness to the heavy topics of anger, fear, and shutdown and provides a pathway for developing awareness and conversations about how these states show up in family dynamics and at school.
Family initiatives: There are some excellent resources that list a variety of interactive, experiential initiatives that can be undertaken with families in the outdoors to reach a variety of therapeutic goals.7 Such activities often utilize various transportable props (ropes, balls, cups, etc.) that can be brought along in the therapist’s backpack or objects found in nature (sticks, rocks, etc.), which we prefer. Team initiatives can be beneficial when you notice that youth need more of a challenge when trying to help a family gain insight on communication and teamwork dynamics, and to bring members together in a united purpose. When introducing initiatives into the session, it is essential to appropriately frame the task so that instructions and expectations are very clear (or you will produce unhelpful frustration) and so the family can view the activity through the lens of their personal experience and goals. By introducing effective stories and metaphors, you cue the clients to begin reflecting on their process from the outset of the initiative. Likewise, skilled debriefing of the initiative will help to prompt the clients to reflect upon what happened (or is happening) in an activity, bringing awareness to their own roles, behaviors, thoughts, and feelings and ascertaining how they can transfer the learning back home. While the therapist may have preconceived notions of the insight a certain intervention may elicit, it is essential that the therapist stay open to processing the experience as it manifests uniquely for each client. Inspired by Gestalt therapy, and developed to strengthen learning experiences, school teacher Terry Borton’s reflective model produced the popular debriefing questions of what, so what, now what?8 The question “what?” asks clients to make nonjudgmental observations of their behaviors, relationships, and feelings in the activity, in essence, objectively describing what happened. “So what?” invites clients to reflect on the impact and consequences of those actions, in essence, how they or others may have been effected by what happened. “Now what?” asks clients to use the information gained from the activity and the two previous questions/responses to make choices about what to keep the same, leave behind, or do differently next time; this is where family members may make new requests or commitments to one another in the service of working toward their goals for family therapy.
Two siblings, ages 10 (a boy with a chronic illness) and 12 (a girl), and their parents were attending family therapy for coping with the loss of grandparents and sibling conflict. At the second session, I (Katy) introduced a ball initiative called Seek and Defend with the intention of learning more about the family, building their cohesion, and engaging the youth. Balls (tennis or whiffle balls work well) for the game were chosen by the family to represent the values of laughter, honesty, and respect. In this game, the therapist represents an obstacle that gets in the way of those family values (which the family, in this case, named as fighting). The therapist’s job is to hide all of the balls and then try to tag the family members while they search for and retrieve the “value” balls and safely transport them back to their home base. As the family ran around the forested area searching for the hidden balls behind bushes and rocks, they were full of laughter and squeals. The therapist worked hard to chase them all, tagging each member a couple of times, so they had to “recharge” at home base. As the “teams” were four against one, the family had the advantage and were able to work together to finally retrieve and protect all of their values. They discovered more success getting the balls back to home base if they threw them to each other, rather than trying to run with them individually the whole way. Upon debriefing the game, the parents were able to identify with the stress of being chased (i.e., feeling it in their bodies), the children reflected on the importance of working together and being creative to achieve goals, and they all expressed feelings of excitement and joy in playing together. The family acknowledged that they rarely made the time to be silly together and craved the opportunity to be on the same team working toward a common goal.
Sensory awareness activities: We have already described in detail the ways that sensory awareness practices are a key element of the nature-based therapy approach (in chapter 7), but it is worth reinforcing the value of this practice as it pertains to family systems therapy. When we can offer the parent and child the opportunity to deepen their attunement to the outer landscape while in relationship, then we are simultaneously moving toward healing attachment between generations and between each person’s relationship to nature. Teaching a child the ability to observe and witness the Earth’s multitude of gifts is that much richer, and hopefully more enduring, if their caring adult can see through the same eyes. And when families are given the opportunity to slow down enough to share in a sense of wonder, gratitude, and respect together, then a culture of appreciation is formed. In the human-serving sense, we are hoping to strengthen the family’s capacity to seek out contact with nature as a resource in their lives; to navigate stress, loss, and change; and to experience healing. In the Earth-serving sense, we are hoping to develop humans who will care deeply and act compassionately in service of the environment. Sensory awareness can be introduced in varying intensities according to the developmental level of the child, from Joseph Cornell’s “camera” activity, where parent and child take turns surprising each other by pointing out beautiful close-ups of nature, to silent blindfolded walks, where each person has a turn diving deep into their sensory experience of the landscape, while at the same time developing trust in their guiding family member. It is important to scaffold the sensory experiences for families, allowing the therapist to assess the person’s level of comfort with opening up to the senses, with sensory deprivation (blindfolded activities), and ability to focus and attend to sensations. We would not want to enter into a blindfolded sensory game on the very first day of counseling before trust with the therapist has been built and expectations for moving clients beyond their comfort zone has been established.
The Hug-a-tree activity is a beautiful opportunity for stepping deeply into one’s senses at the same time as working on elements of trust, communication, and connection among family members. For example, a newly blended family of four (two single parents and their children) had been attending nature-based therapy sessions for a few months to work on easing relationship tensions and developing cohesion as a family. The children (girls, aged 9 and 13) were working on accepting and trusting their stepparents, while the parents were working on valuing each child uniquely and figuring out how to co-parent. The Hug-a-tree activity was offered as a way to emphasize the progress they had made as a family and to continue building trust. Each parent was partnered with their stepchild and instructed to lead them blindfolded to a tree; the specific tree was to be chosen by the parent, based on valued qualities that reminded them of their stepchild. The child was asked to get to know the details of the tree so intimately with her senses that she would be able to find that tree again with the blindfold removed. In order to set up the activity safely, the child was asked to express clearly to the parent how she wanted to be led, and they were to make a plan for communication before moving into silence for the game. Many rich conversations emerged from this activity, along with precious moments of bonding. The children were able to sink into a bodily feeling of trusting their stepparents while they were being led to the tree, a sentiment the 13-year-old had been hesitant to acknowledge previously. This aspect also led to awareness about the importance of clearly asking for what you need and respecting boundaries. The girls were excited about being able to eventually find their tree again, proud of using the sensory skills they had been developing over the course of therapy. Lastly, the opportunity for the unique trees to act as mirrors for expressing appreciation for one another had a strong impact. The trees represented assets such as strength, resilience, creativity, beauty, humor, and friendship. After the parents pointed out the special qualities they had noticed, the children were also able to see themselves in the chosen trees, and the feeling of joy in being witnessed for their strengths was palpable. Furthermore, whenever the family later returned to this same grove of trees, the kids often visited “their tree,” enhancing their connection to place.
As in most counseling sessions, an intentional closing to the time spent together is important in acknowledging the transition out of the therapeutic space, strengthening concepts learned, and recognizing the current state of each family member as they leave. It is also very easy to lose track of time when exploring outdoors together, so a key skill of the nature-based therapist is staying attuned to the amount of time spent moving through the environment and ensuring that you return to a designated starting spot (e.g., a trailhead) in order to close the session at the agreed-upon time. Sometimes kids want to keep exploring, or have a hard time stopping a fun game, so part of our job as the therapist is to maintain clear boundaries around ending. The “check-out” process can be fairly simple, with the main goal being to provide a voice for each family member to relay the impact the session had for them. More detailed questions might be, What are you taking away from today? What today was like a rose? What was like a thorn? What was a highlight of our time together? But if you do run short on time, or have children or clients less inclined to process verbally, you might turn to brief options for closing expressions and feedback. Some ideas include return to your check-in activities and repeat (e.g., a quick weather metaphor, which is great if you started out the same way and thus get a sense of changing “internal” weather systems); ask them to rate themselves on a scale of 1 to 5 (giving the option to show the rating on fingers is even less intimidating); or do a one-word checkout that asks them to sum up their feeling state in one simple word.
The steps outlined above are simply a guide, an offering of the rich variety of ways you can step into your own creativity as a nature-based therapist to explore family dynamics in partnership with earthly elements. We invite you to challenge your own fears and uncertainties of breaking with conventional office-based practices and to discover the myriad opportunities for enhancing family well-being outside of the office walls. This practice can be adapted to all sorts of helping professions that find themselves with the daunting task of assisting families to heal and move toward improved functioning and happiness.