This Is Your Sign to Go Outside

Coyotes, parrots, and the power of noticing the nature we’ve paved over

When was the last time you connected with nature? And I’m not talking about a retreat or backpacking through the woods, but actual physical connection—foot on grass, hands in dirt, sun on skin. We’ve covered everything in asphalt and concrete, and rush through it in cars or public transportation.

I used to tell my students at the end of every school year: Don’t just spend the summer watching other people live. Go out and live your own. It wasn’t about productivity or bucket lists. It was about curiosity. About presence. About remembering that being alive isn’t something that has to be earned through exhaustion.

That there is a freedom and sense of discovery in walking out into the world without your phone distracting you. Without your headphones pumping stimulus into your ears. To listen to birds chirping and yes, there are actually birds here in LA. We have 19 species of wild parrots that roam our neighborhoods and help break up the relentless hum of the city.

And honestly? I’ve been trying to take my own advice.

Longest Day, Shortest Window

Summer solstice is more than a seasonal marker, it’s a moment. A permission slip. The longest day of the year, a literal expansion of light, daring us to stretch alongside it.

As someone who used to mark time by bell schedules and unit plans, I’ve started paying attention to how my body responds to the rhythms of nature now that I’m out of the classroom. How the sun invites us to slow down, to notice, to connect. Not in a corny, life-coach way. In a real way. A human one.

We are being called outside. But we’re spending more and more time watching others do things behind the glass of our phones—marveling at amazing feats, garden hacks, hidden beaches. Your community may not seem like one of the seven wonders of the world, but I guarantee you it has something you’ve never noticed because you’ve been distracted. Pulled into the lives of others.

Touch Grass, Really

We joke about it online, but the call to “touch grass” is more than a meme. It’s internet shorthand used to tell someone to log off, get outside, and reconnect with reality, and it’s usually when they’ve spent too much time being chronically online. The idea holds deeper meaning: it’s a reminder to return to something real.

Nearly 18% of Americans spend less than 15 minutes a day outside. Over half spend an hour or less per day outdoors, with nearly 20% getting almost no time outside at all (Source: Building H, 2022).

We joke about it because we’ve normalized disconnection.

Robin Wall Kimmerer, in Braiding Sweetgrass, writes: “In some Native languages the term for plants translates to 'those who take care of us.’”

That line stopped me. Not because it’s poetic (which it is), but because it flips the script. We think of nature as something we’re supposed to protect or preserve as something fragile. What if it’s also what’s been holding us all along?

What if the grass, the trees, the ocean, the breeze aren’t just backdrops to our lives. They’re part of our survival. Our clarity. Our connection.

We touch grass not just to feel grounded, but to remember we’re already part of something. We’re not separate from the natural world. We belong to it.

So when you go outside today, don’t just “get some fresh air.” Let yourself be taken care of. Even for five minutes.

Inhale, Exhale

The world is loud right now. It will still be there when you get back.

But the sun’s still up. Your feet still work. Go outside.

Go touch some grass.

Go live a little. Not for content. For yourself.