Coyote Mentoring Core Routines: Wandering
What It Is—and Why It Matters
Wandering is the unstructured, curiosity-led movement through the landscape that allows discovery, mystery, and learning to arise spontaneously. Unlike hiking, which often has a destination, wandering has no goal beyond presence and exploration. As described in Coyote’s Guide, it is a core routine that opens the learner to the unexpected. When we wander, we leave behind plans and step into possibility.
The power of wandering lies in its ability to shift us from doing to being. It’s not idle or random—it’s a rhythm tuned to intuition, attention, and the landscape itself. Learners begin to follow sounds, scents, textures, paths made by deer or wind. They discover things they never could have planned: a turtle nest, a tree filled with cedar waxwings, the quiet hum of insects around a sunlit log.
Wandering matters because it cultivates “aliveness,” “inquisitive focus,” and a willingness to follow the thread of a moment. It strengthens internal navigation—what Coyote’s Guide calls the “inner tracking system.” It’s also one of the best ways for mentors to observe what a learner naturally gravitates toward. In a world dominated by outcomes and structure, wandering restores the lost art of wonder-led learning.
What It Might Look Like
A learner strays from the trail.
They follow the flight of a butterfly, then pause to watch ants dismantle a beetle. Their friend disappears behind a cluster of elderberry, drawn by a rustling sound. No one shouts for them to come back. The mentor watches from a distance, alert but uninvolved. This is learning at its best—spontaneous, alive.
Time expands.
What was supposed to be a short walk becomes a three-hour meander. The learners forget their watches. They sit beside a puddle, noticing reflections. They mimic a squirrel’s chatter. They lie in the tall grass watching clouds. Their attention sharpens even as their bodies soften. They’re not “off task”—they are immersed.
Mentors follow the trail of curiosity.
Later, around the fire, a mentor asks, “What surprised you today?” or “Where did your feet take you?” The group shares what they saw, smelled, wondered about. There’s no lesson plan to assess, but the mentor hears learning in every word: plant identification, spatial awareness, emotional connection.
Wandering becomes a core rhythm.
Eventually, learners expect to wander. They crave it. Their bodies remember how to follow the subtle pull of interest. Their minds loosen. Their awareness deepens. They begin to walk as if the forest is speaking—because it is—and they are listening. Wandering becomes not just what they do, but how they are.