What was your career path? What led you to pursue the path of nature coaching at Tannerhof?
I think two things shaped me. First, nature and herbal medicine. Plants have been with me my whole life, ever since I was a child in my grandmother's garden. I always perceived plants differently. It’s not just about ingredients—for me, plants are more than that. They are carriers of quality. Each plant has its own essence and quality. A daisy is simply different from an oak tree.
The second topic that has always occupied me is consciousness. How do I perceive things? What stories do I tell myself, and how do I act as a result? That is the big topic of limiting beliefs.
My path led me through naturopathic school, then to herbalist training and various other courses. In parallel, I studied consciousness and completed hypnosis training, specifically in the field of naturopathic hypnosis. Finally, I came to neuro-mental training, which I did for a year in Salzburg. That’s where I packed my "toolbox" and introduced it here. Then the idea arose to develop a service under the name nature coaching. Since "nature coaching" already existed as a term, I completed additional training in nature coaching.
That was an important experience because I had to unpack my toolbox there. It’s really about finding solid ground under your feet again. It’s about letting go of the many concepts and methods we’ve developed and instead developing trust in yourself. It’s about feeling again that many answers are already within us, just waiting to be discovered.
What principles is nature coaching based on?
That often depends on who you learned from. I learned from Andre Lorino, for example. Principles? I think they are actually ancient principles—something primal that is inherent in the essence of humans and nature. It’s nothing new, but rather a rediscovery of something that used to be taken for granted. Philosophers used to walk through nature to get inspiration and ask themselves questions. I believe the less principled you are when going into nature, the better.
How does a session with you work?
Usually, I first ask if the person has a specific wish—whether we should drive somewhere, start from here, or if they would prefer to climb a hill or go to the water. Most of the time, however, there are no concrete ideas. I try to find a protected space and also get a bit away from the Tannerhof, such as the Niederhoferalm.
There are various possibilities there: a small fairy-tale forest, a riverbed, or water spots. I then let the person start walking and observe how they move.
At the beginning, many are still trapped in their heads and often walk very quickly, still with that performance mindset we carry with us almost constantly. Then I say: "Try walking a bit slower. Just perceive what is around you. How does the ground feel? How do you feel?"
That is often the first moment they move from thinking into their body and feel their perception. Many are then insecure: "What am I supposed to do now?"
I say: "It’s okay if you feel uncomfortable. That is allowed, too." It’s not about getting rid of unpleasant feelings, but about allowing them and observing them: How does that feel? Where do I feel the pressure?
After a while, many give themselves permission to simply be and feel what happens. That is unusual at first, but often very liberating. At the beginning, I thought I had to intervene actively. But I have learned that the most valuable moments arise when I am simply there, holding the space and allowing everything to show itself—whether it’s tears, anger, or silence.
How do you handle rain or winter? Do you need a certain level of physical fitness?
Except for thunderstorms or gales, where it’s not possible for safety reasons, coaching can actually take place in any weather, though it doesn't have to. I always have rain jackets, hot water bottles, and blankets with me so that people feel comfortable.
And it is precisely under such conditions that the most important things often happen—things that might never have come to light in good weather. Rain clarifies. The deepest experiences often arise when someone has the courage to go out in the rain. From the inside, rain looks uninviting—but when you move in it, it is often wonderful.
I haven't done many nature coaching sessions in winter, but it's just as possible. The choice of path is important – I wouldn't choose slippery trails. Snow offers wonderful opportunities: leaving tracks, creating something.
Physical fitness? Not at all! I limp sometimes myself, depending on how my hip is doing. It’s not about performance; it’s about walking slowly and observing.
Are there people for whom nature coaching is more or less suitable?
When I ask why someone has come to me, they often say: "It just spoke to me, but I don't know exactly what's behind it." That is actually the best starting point – having no expectations.
It is true that it isn't for everyone. Many people have responsible jobs and complex life situations for which they are looking for solutions. They want something concrete to work with. That’s fine – but then nature coaching isn't the right fit: it’s not about a new tool, a new concept, or a new technique. It’s about learning to perceive again – having a space for yourself, allowing yourself that, and regaining that trust. For me, that is the essence of this offering.
You also offer herb walks at the Tannerhof. Do you see any overlaps between those and nature coaching?
Yes, in my herb walks, I do try to explain the effects of the plants, as that’s what people are interested in: "How can I use this?" But I also try to introduce small prompts, like looking at a dandelion, which is wonderful for liver and gallbladder issues. But also considering its capacity for transformation: the dandelion can root up to 1.5 meters deep – it's incredible! Yet it can also break through asphalt, has this beautiful yellow blossom, and then suddenly, despite all its bitterness and strength, comes this dandelion clock, this delicate structure, this lightness. And when you look at how lightly the seeds sit on the receptacle, that it only takes a little wind to lift them – and it lets go. Despite all its firmness. And you can just observe that without me saying: "You have to apply this to your life now!" Sure, letting go is a big topic, but I mean, it resonates with some people and not with others.
What personal lessons do you draw from nature?
In nature, I learn that change is life – or that life is change, that classic calendar quote. A tree has its scars, perhaps a branch has broken off, yet it is still there. The elderberry looks almost dead in winter – and then it sprouts again, producing delicate blossoms and robust berries. Everyone has their own qualities and essence, and they have this classic trust that everything is okay – though "okay" is, of course, a judgment. Everything is included: illness, death, bad feelings, good feelings.
I believe nature, as a space for resonance, can be a great and good companion for all of us – in many different phases and questions. This soul-nourishing aspect, simply being allowed to be without having to be something – that is something essential for me that we are losing more and more because we feel: "I have to achieve something, I have to look a certain way, I have to have a certain figure." All the beliefs we hold about how we must be cause this originality to be lost.
But I believe this rediscovery of being allowed to be, of being able to rely on the original self that defines me – that is what nature can teach me well.
