Everybody does better outside.
The 14 days outside challenge. One tiny quest a day, done wherever you already live — Manhattan included.
You don't need a mountain, hiking boots or a free weekend. Give me ten minutes a day. I'll give you a reason to go outside.
Quick facts
You already live next to everything you need.
Everybody does better outside. Even the busy. Even the skeptical. Even the week you swear you have no time for it.
Not with a retreat. Not with a move to a tent. With ten honest minutes a day, where you already are.
Ten minutes is enough.
No afternoon to clear, no weekend to sacrifice. Ten minutes a day — and the first five are the most importans.
Your city counts.
Your street, a nearby park, a windowsill, the sky doing something. Manhattan absolutely counts.
Bring nothing.
No special shoes. No technical trousers. No prior relationship with the word "outdoorsy." (Unless you love shopping. Then buy the trousers, they're lovely.)
Nature is not a place you drive to.
It's a street tree, a houseplant, a coffee cup carried out to a bench. You don't have to go find it. You have to go outside.
Fourteen days. One tiny quest at a time.
For 14 days I send you one small nature quest a day. Straight from Norway to your inbox. We meet live a few times to compare notes on what you actually noticed. Not what you were supposed to feel. What you noticed.
Opening online campfire
A tiny quest each day
Live gathering and reflection
A tiny quest each day
Closing campfire
Hear yourself think again.
Ten minutes outside will not empty your calendar. It will get you away from the tabs, messages and other people’s opinions long enough to notice which thought is actually yours.
You come back knowing what to do next.
Yes I want to go outside
I didn't leave one world for the other.
I'm Solfrid Bøhler. I know full calendars — decades of corporate life, in Norway and the US. And I know nature — a Girl Scout since I was eight, later trained as a forest bathing guide.
Then a serious illness knocked my body out from under me. Learning to trust it again started with something almost comically small: a coffee cup carried out to a bench. Then a walk. Then a fire. Eventually a mountaintop.
Now I bring both worlds to capable women with a great deal going on. This was never about becoming outdoorsy.
You just need somewhere to start.