Kindness as a Way of Life: Lessons From Nature and the Trails
- Shannon Hurst
- Jul 19
- 6 min read
Today I read a quote that stopped me in my tracks: “Shout out to people whose kindness isn’t a strategy, but a way of life.”
It made me seriously pause. I’ve seen, over and over again, how nature gives without asking for anything in return, why is it so different for us?
Every hike I’ve taken, whether it was my recent day hike up stunning Mount Lipsett this week or my solo journey to Berg Lake under the towering shadow of Mount Robson or even earlier adventures with my boys, has taught me that kindness and nature are woven from the same fabric.
A forest doesn’t withhold shade, and a river doesn’t demand gratitude before it quenches your thirst. Nature simply exists in balance, always giving, always receiving. Humans, on the other hand, often forget this rhythm. We treat kindness like a transaction or a PR move rather than the way of life it should be. We rush, we take, we judge, and somewhere in that chaos, we lose the simple grace of giving and being.
How Nature Has Taught Me Kindness
When I hiked solo to Berg Lake, carrying all 35 pounds of gear on my back, I thought I was there to check off a bucket-list hike and make a dream come true. But the farther I went, the more nature humbled me.
Standing beneath the powerful spray of Emperor Falls, I realized that kindness doesn’t need an audience, it just is. The falls didn’t care that I was exhausted or emotional, they roared on, showering me with life-giving mist simply because that’s what they do.
The same thing happened as I sat on that bridge at Whitehorn, staring at Mount Robson while the sun set. I slowed down in a way I hadn't in months, maybe even years. I breathed. I let my thoughts about losing my mom a few months ago, my business, my grief, my friends and my future drift in and out like clouds. There was no judgment from the mountains, no demands, only quiet acceptance and space to feel and let go. Nature, in its raw truth, has a way of holding space for us. It shows us how to be kind, without strategy, without condition.
The Day My Boys Fell in Love With Nature
One of my more vivid memories of nature teaching me something about life and kindness came five years ago on the Helen Lake Trail with my boys. They’d grown up hiking, but this hike was somehow different.
As we climbed through the alpine meadows, the epic views of the Crowfoot Glacier and the ridgelines of the Dolomites seemed to completely transform them. Suddenly, the trail wasn’t just “another hike with mom” to them, it was a gateway to something bigger, something awe-inspiring.
They treated the alpine meadows like a secret garden they’d never seen before. When we reached the summit pass we’d set out to conquer above Helen Lake, I expected them to be tired and ready to stop. Instead, they were ecstatic.
"Mom look over there, that view is amazing!"
Their energy was off the charts. They wanted to keep exploring, keep climbing, keep going.
When we finally descended after seven hours of hiking, their enthusiasm didn’t waver. We ended up paddling Bow Lake, and even after that, they begged to climb the slopes below Crowfoot Glacier. That night, I was convinced they would be exhausted, I know I was, but they were so energized from what they’d experienced that they could barely sit still.
Something shifted for them that day. They saw the natural world, a world they’d been surrounded by their whole lives, through entirely new eyes. They saw its kindness, its beauty, its wild and raw power and it left them buzzing with life. I am not sure why that hike was different, or what the trigger was that opened a new version of a world they knew, and it doesn't really matter. Yet, that day reminded me how a new perspective can change everything.
Why Humans Struggle With This
Our modern world rarely slows down long enough to appreciate these kinds of lessons. We treat success, relationships, and even kindness like they’re part of some endless to-do list. But nature doesn’t operate like that.
Driving down the Icefields Parkway on my way to Jasper recently, I was struck by both heartbreak and hope. The fire that tore through the area left devastation, but the land was already healing. Elk grazed on the new green shoots, a mother bear shepherded her tiny cubs, and life was continuing, resilient and generous. It made me wonder: why do we humans struggle so much to live in that same spirit of unconditional giving?
How We Can Change This
Maybe it’s simpler than we think. Maybe kindness isn’t about big, world-changing gestures, but about the everyday moments that ripple further than we realize. It’s in the way we greet our loved ones in the morning, in the patience we show a stranger who’s having a bad day, and in the grace we give ourselves when we’re struggling. Kindness often begins with the smallest of actions, a warm smile, a listening ear, or even taking a moment to truly see and acknowledge another person.
And perhaps the key to unlocking this type of kindness lies in reconnecting with the natural world. Nature doesn’t rush or overcomplicate things. The trees don’t compete with each other for sunlight, and rivers don’t demand thanks for the water they give. Nature simply is balanced, generous, and resilient. When we spend more time outside, whether walking through a quiet forest or standing in awe at the base of a glacier, we’re reminded of this simplicity. We start to see how the world was designed to thrive on cooperation and harmony, not conflict and division.
If we let it, nature teaches us that true kindness is about living in balance, caring for others, caring for the planet, and caring for ourselves in equal measure. It’s in those moments of stillness, like sitting on a bridge watching the clouds sweep past Mount Robson or hiking up a ridge to see the sweeping view of the Dolomites, that we remember what truly matters. Maybe it’s not as complicated as we make it. Maybe, just maybe, kindness can become our default way of living if we slow down and listen to the lessons around us.
I believe that if we talk about a problem, we should talk about a solution. So with that said, here are my suggestions for 4 ways we can start living kindness as a way of life today:
1. Lead With Empathy, Not Judgment
Just like nature doesn’t judge the storms or the droughts, we can learn to accept people as they are. The couple from Holland I met while hiking to Whitehorn didn’t need to share their love of hiking with me, but they did and it created an instant connection. Empathy creates bridges where judgment builds walls.
2. Give Without Expectation
When the women at Berg Lake told me about the hidden campsite by Toboggan Creek, they didn’t expect anything from me. They just wanted me to experience the joy they’d found. What if we lived like that, giving time, kindness, or help just because it feels good to give?
3. Reconnect With Nature
Nature has a way of teaching us humility and gratitude. Spend an afternoon by a river or under a canopy of pines, and you’ll start to see how everything works together in quiet harmony. If we could apply that same balance to our relationships, imagine the world we’d create.
4. Practice Daily Acts of Kindness
Kindness isn’t always about grand gestures. It’s holding the door for someone, smiling at a stranger, or picking up trash on a trail. Small acts ripple outward in ways we can’t measure, but they matter.
What If Kindness Was Our Default?
What if we lived like the trees, giving oxygen freely? What if we mirrored the rivers, flowing with purpose and generosity? What if every decision we made, from how we treat the planet to how we treat each other, was rooted in kindness?
The truth is, kindness doesn’t cost anything, but it could change everything.
So I’ll leave you with this question: What’s one small act of unconditional kindness you can do today?
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