Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Second Nature Blue Ridge Opens Young Adult Group!
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Dr. Coady Schueler Opening Adolescent Girls Group at Second Nature Uintas!
Coady has extensive experience working with adolescent females who have experienced trauma and, as a result, struggle with depression, anxiety, eating disorders, self-harm behaviors, as well as, substance abuse/dependence. Coady’s doctoral dissertation explored how a female adolescent’s conceptualization of emotional intimacy was impacted by her experience of being sexually abused. In private practice, her work focused upon adolescent females who were in the process of addressing the residual impact of their respective trauma; including sexual assault and/or family traumas, such as the death of a parent or loved one. Coady is also highly experienced in working with girls who struggle with abandonment or adoption-related issues.
Coady has a unique ability to establish and maintain a rapport with clinically complex girls, often with unresolved grief. Her diagnostic skills coupled with her ability to formulate a comprehensive understanding of each girl’s personal struggle, guide her interventions. Her warmth and relational skills further help to create a sense of emotional safety within her group. Coady employs the framework of developmental psychology to understand adolescent girls and their struggles and, from there she utilizes cognitive behavioral techniques, psychodynamic theory, as well as, the tenants of family system’s theory to inform her interventions. Patience and humor are also important in her work.
Originally from the east coast, Coady moved to Park City in 1993 with her husband. Coady’s passions include telemark skiing in the backcountry and trail running when the ski season is over. Her most important passion is her son Ketch who continuously keeps her humble by reminding her that even parents need to continue to learn and to change.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Learning to Live and Feel in the Present
Justin Stum, MS, LMFT
Primary Therapist, Second Nature Entrada
They leave their families, often angry and upset to enter the wilderness. These teens enroll with a wake of difficulty and heartache at home and parents hoping for change. Often these teens are plugged in, yet at the same time tuned out. They talk about friends and memories, boasting of their hundreds of virtual “friends,” yet often are very alone and isolated. They are living via trite connections and frequently lack ‘doing’ and ‘experiencing’ because of the generation they are living in. It is in the wilderness that many, some for the first time, come to think, breathe, and relate to others in real-time, in the ‘now’ as I call it.
At home they have the world at their fingertips, on demand via their smart phone or personal computer. They connect quickly and instantaneously, yet are distracted and self-absorbed rather than self-reflective. Apathetic with regard to sibling and parent-child relationships, they claim their problems are really about their parents not them.
Therapeutic treatment with adolescents in this generation and age is very difficult. As a therapist, I have found that enlisting resistant teens into the therapeutic process is a significant task, but not insurmountable. Helping teens engage in a process of openness and change consideration is difficult. It is through the process of working through the issues in wilderness therapy that adolescents can surrender past defenses and gain significant insights into themselves and their relationships.
The adolescent brain is a work in progress, a developing organ. As the teen brain matures, the prefrontal cortex or 'executive leader' of the brain helps the individual reason more rationally, manage impulses, and make sound judgments. The difficulty is that many of these developing teens are flooding their bodies and brain with drugs and chemicals that disorient the brain from more healthy normal development. In addition, mood swings, intense conflict, and family avoidance impedes their progress and further complicates their understanding and growing in ways that promote healthy relationships at home and overall maturing as they enter adulthood.
As adolescents grow and develop they seek to comprehend and engage with peers outside their family of origin. In time they develop circles of peers, some virtual and some not. Adolescents are hard-wired to reach out and connect with others their age. They undergo an emotional revolution within which they attempt to figure out who they are and where they fit in the world. They want to direct and control their own destiny. During this same window of time, parents are trying to hold lines and guide their former child now-teen, into making healthy decisions, keeping up and learning academically, and communicating and relating well at home.
Wilderness therapy offers a unique environment that assists adolescents in unplugging and leads them headlong into a peer group removed from distractions while being confronted with their own process of what-in-the-world-is-happening-to-me-and-ehy-am-I-here mode of thinking It is this process that does not and often cannot happen in traditional talk therapy at home. In fact, many parents feel hopeless as talk therapy and other interventions at home proved ineffective or marginally effective at best in many cases.
Through the process of wilderness, young men and women can come to understand who they are and how they relate to others, the very developmental achievement needed as they attempt to differentiate from parents and seek independence and autonomy. They come to learn how they can, in fact, live in the present and relate to others in ways that prolong relationships and help to bolster their sense of self. This process occurs relatively free from the distractions and elements that are a part of normal urban life, and would cumber the process. Being in the wilderness without electronics, peers, family, substances, and pastimes helps create space for them to naturally work on understanding who they are and what is happening for them. This process happens through everyday activities in the wilderness.
It is through the process of wilderness therapy that they learn what they are feeling and become astute at identifying and understanding themselves. I recently had a student inform me that for the first time he has begun to feel things he hasn’t felt before. Feelings like genuine regret, disappointment, and sorrow for how he treated his parents and siblings. We discussed the possibility that he may have been ‘attempting’ to feel for some time while at home, but blunted and misguided his emotional process with daily marijuana smoking. As he has come to know and understand how to communicate and interact with others, he has begun to feel emotions he thought he never had experienced before.
The therapeutic process in wilderness is not merely an hour or two of therapy each week, rather the environment itself is a clinical garden that is lead and directed by the treating therapist who takes advantage of opportunities that will provide insight and reflection for young men and women. I have witnessed that individuals learn and grow in productive ways when they participate and learn to live in the present while in the wilderness. Many of the young people I work with are therapy savvy, meaning they can talk the clinical terms but have little grasp on the process of what is really happening at home for them and have not really ‘experienced’ working through issues. For example, it is during a reflection hike when wilderness staff may direct the students to hike for some length of time without talking or chit-chatting with others. Windows of opportunity are often created by staff and therapists to help them reflect and spend some unique time thinking to themselves. I have found that it is during those windows of quiet pondering and reflection that many teens come to ponder on their relationships and where they are heading. The physical rigor of hiking also provides a time for them to focus on their inner abilities and confront a physical challenge, something that cannot and is not done on a smart phone or on the couch. Just enduring at first, then managing and finally conquering the challenges of wilderness living offer the adolescents success and pride in something they know few of their peers and adults have accomplished. For the first time for many, they feel they have achieved something to be proud of.
Fire building is an integral part of wilderness therapy, not simply for its utilitarian principles of cooking and warmth alone, but for the process it provides for teens to feel and work through. Holding the bow steady, listening to coaching from staff and peers, and humbly realizing that they cannot charm the fire into being are a few of the myriad of processes that take place during the fire making that occurs daily. Attention, work, persistence, patience and openness are required prior to the fire’s combustion. It is through this process and ones like it that help them learn to open up and surrender to new ways of thinking. These ways would include listening, being humble, working consistently, and overcoming difficulty. It is these processes that are born out of the fire building process that help them reconnect and begin anew a relationship with parents and siblings that is healthy and stable.
Group activities that require team-work and cooperation are key moments that happen on hikes, during dinner preparation, camp setup, and during group therapy. It is during these moments that teens learn real-time how to work with others. No longer can they avoid by leaving the house or checking out on an iPod. It is through the process of dialogue and feedback that they learn to know and feel others’ perceptions and in turn assist themselves and the group. Groups can only hike as fast as the slowest member—if they want to get to camp sooner they will have to help, not complain, their peers that may not hike as quickly. During meal time it requires many hands, those stoking the fire, others doing meal preparation, others cooking, some on clean-up, etc., for meals to run smoothly. Staff will not do it for them, they are empowered to do for themselves things they often avoided at home. Unlike home where they may have been bailed out often, wilderness teaches them that choices consistently have consequences. Through these processes growth is naturally occurring and often they don’t realize it.
Family therapy is a significant element of the wilderness process. This occurs through letter writing, satellite phone calls, and parent visits to the field. Letter writing occurs weekly and provides a solid slow process for teens to be intentional and present when speaking to parents. It also provides space for parents to become more aware of their own patterns and process with the child. While teens are working in the field parents are reading, pondering, and referencing online webinars on how they can better grow and make changes in their own lives to be the healthiest parent they can be.
The therapeutic process at Second Nature can be a significant process for both parents and child. Change occurs by thinking, feeling and most importantly by doing. Simple cognitive possessing around issues, like what occurs in an hour therapy session at home, often is not and does not carry enough clinical power to help them pull out of the emotional rut they are often stuck in when they enter treatment. Wilderness is one of the most powerful environments to help young men and women break away from old patterns and unplug while coming to terms with who they are and what they ultimately want in their lives. As they come to live in the present and work through the challenges inherent in the wilderness, and away from their ‘former’ life, their minds and hearts open to a better understanding of what was really happening back home. They are then able to face their relationship and behavioral problems with resources and strengths they already had but were buried behind anger, resentment, drug use, and avoidance. It is through the journey of wilderness that young men and women gain a glimpse into their potential and greatness.
Friday, September 23, 2011
The Second Nature Parent Workshop...A Return to Base Camp
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| Zoe, Aowyn, Atticus, Abe and Carl |
Zoe, Second Nature Parent, Northern California
The phone that we use to communicate, the computer we use to watch webinars and download and compose letters, the walls of our bedroom that we read in late at night to try to understand the terrain, don’t seem to lessen our own experience of wilderness. We are trekking, some days with gritted teeth, through valleys and up hills that look impossible from the bottom.
The guide doesn’t stay as long as the journey, though. We are together only a matter of weeks. Eventually we have to set off without him and, in our case, in the company of our child. On our own, assuming point, some days go well and include new and striking vistas; some days don’t. At intervals, usually prompted by set-backs, we review what we have learned, not always very sure that we are practicing the skills as well as they were taught. But we keep moving. We refuse to stand still. Occasionally we look around and realize we have been to a particular place before. We must have inadvertently backtracked, or gone in a circle, and that is disheartening. But mostly we are sure that what we are keeping to the right trail.
And then an invitation arrives, sent out to so many individual travelers on trails far and wide. Directions are given to a nearby base camp. With relief, we head in that direction, with
noticeably more energy in our strides. The Second Nature Parent Workshop is held in a hotel. The floor of the lobby gleams, the escalator rises underneath shimmering chandeliers and a conference room awaits, with chairs set out in rows.
But, to us, what it feels like to walk into this event is a return to base camp. We drop our heavy, dusty packs. More parents file in. We settle and begin to regroup, revisit and recharge.
Atticus said nothing, objected not at all. He was jostled awake, a few loving words were choked out by his father, and then he slid on long basketball shorts, picked up his iPod and a sweatshirt as he was asked, and walked out uncomplaining, with complete strangers on either side. Yet, here we are, just 354 days later, riding in our car, heading to Millbrae, California. Atticus is with us, an invited guest on the panel of speakers.
A stone’s throw from the San Francisco Airport, the Parent Workshop gets underway. Old and familiar guides are present, organizing the goings on at base camp. They are teaching additional skills and refreshers, and deftly keeping the schedule. But they are also allowing this setting to work naturally on its own, just as they do for groups of kids gathered around smokey campfires out in the field. Today we learn from each other.
Paul comes to the podium with smiles and notecards and a quick and engaging wit. He declares that he’s not there to talk about his daughter. He wants to talk about himself. His daughter has Borderline personality disorder. She has been to Second Nature more than once. Her problems are not gone, the difficulties within the family aren’t neatly resolved, but Paul’s story is surprisingly triumphant.
He speaks of a personal history that includes a desire for control and for achievements that are traditional and measurable. But these aspects of himself are holding him up, they are stalling progress in his family, and so he has worked on letting go and changing focus.
As a result, he feels closer to his wife. Moreover, his relationship with his other child, a son, is transformed. His happiness isn’t any longer tethered to that of his daughter’s. He loves her; he likes her! But he doesn’t know in what space, in what condition, her life will ultimately take root. If he lives by the notion that “parents are only as happy as their unhappiest child,” he may never feel joyful about his own life, and that’s not what he wants for himself.
Paul sounds like someone who has seen a particularly dark and tangled stretch of wilderness, and yet he’s standing in front of us, with humor, humility and strength. It is so reassuring to see.
Liz is a young woman in her mid-twenties who explains that she had trouble with substances at a much younger age. Those years ended, the use of substances stopped, but her feeling of being ill at ease did not abate. There was no glaring problem, nothing at which she could point and know with certainty that she needed further help. And yet that was her intuition. She chose Second Nature for herself; she resigned her job and willingly put herself in wilderness.
Listening to Liz, it is hard to imagine her any other way than she is in the present moment. Liz is intelligent, wry, honest, composed. The courage it must have taken to walk away from a life that was going rather well, going well enough, is abundantly apparent in her voice.
She touches on one further point. Her relationship with her parents had always been good, but now, post Second Nature, it is “amazing.” By turns, I take both comfort and inspiration from this story. I imagine my own child expressing such a sentiment about his relationship with his father
and me.
Atticus
In fact, I can’t tell you what Atticus chose to say, because he requested that we leave the room when he spoke. I heard applause and later saw people approach to ask questions and give thanks. Two fathers shared with Carl that listening to Atticus was inspiring. Has he always been that confident? they asked. We are so glad he has returned to sports, to his passion...
What I thought about in the hall was the parent workshop my husband and I attended in January, 2011, just seven months earlier. At the time, Atticus had been home for only a handful of weeks.
On this gray January day, sometime around mid-morning, a Second Nature alumnus came to the front of the conference room. He was tall, handsome, his collared shirt was pressed. He stood with stunning poise, told his story and spared himself nothing. He took question after question, carefully repeating each one so that people at the back could hear. Wisdom and self-awareness poured out of this 19-year-old young man and I hung my head and wept. Would we ever get here? Would our son ever sound like this?
This is the memory I had as I stood waiting in the hall. My son was now in the conference room, collared shirt on, telling a painful story and giving a new gathering of families more insight and hope.
After lunch—and lunch is so pleasantly chaotic with stories and candid accounts that notebooks could be filled with the material—we break up into smaller groups. We face each other in circles and introduce ourselves and our individual circumstances. This is another time to reflect, a time to pick up pearls of wisdom, and offer one or two if you have them to spare.
It was during this part of the day at the January Workshop, that my husband and I regarded a couple that we will never forget. They were attending the workshop as part of a decision-making process. The father struggled to share his son’s story of internet addiction and social isolation, and he seemed so enveloped in sadness and grief as not to notice the comfort of his nearly silent wife. He too hung his head and shed tears, freely admitting that he didn’t know what to do to help and protect his son.
It was one of the most moving expressions of fatherly love we have ever seen, and we could sense that he was straying far from his own personal norms, talking about acute problems in
front of perfect strangers.
Carl and I spoke to this couple at the close of the January meeting. We tried to offer encouragement. We expressed our hope that they would make the decision to send their son to Second Nature. Since January, we have wondered about them many times and when they walked into the room looking for two open seats, broad smiles spread across our faces.
On August 27th, they were the last to arrive to our afternoon circle. They took the last two chairs. They didn’t have to utter a word to convey how far they had traveled since winter. They smiled, they laughed, they carried themselves with so much less wooden tension it was remarkable. Their son was doing very well in therapeutic boarding school. Their whole family was doing well. Both husband and wife were eager to share. They were here at the conference to give back, to encourage the next parents, the ones who might be in that now familiar fog, where they were only nine months prior.
And so we rise to leave. We have Paul’s Power Bar of energy, we have fresh stores of I Feel Statements and Reflective listening techniques, we have courage from Liz, grit from Atticus and the smiles of two people who feel like old friends. We are back out on our own trail. Hopefully the climbs we make won't feel impossibly steep. Maybe we will make it to a mountaintop. Maybe we will make it there with our son, to take in a sunrise together.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Working With Difficult Clients
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| Dr. J Huffine, Primary Therapist, Clinical Director, Second Nature Cascades |
It is a hallmark of therapeutic wilderness programs to help clients begin to engage in their own therapeutic process, so that lasting change can occur. But how? What is actually changing?
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Creating Appropriate Structure at Home for your Child
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| Beth Laughlin, M.A. |
Director of Development and Admissions
Second Nature 360
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| www.secondnature360.com |
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Working with Educational Consultants
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| Dr. Brad Reedy |
Second Nature Therapeutic Wilderness Programs






