I remember sitting across from a couple who were poised to make a significant gift to the LGBTQ+ organization I was serving. Their child was queer. They had tremendous capacity and had already invested generously in organizations advancing LGBTQ+ rights.

Yet somehow, instead of talking about our work, I found myself talking about wilderness, the importance of children spending time outdoors, and Richard Louv's then-new book, Last Child in the Woods.

I did eventually make the ask, and they made a generous gift. By every outward measure, it was a successful donor visit.

But as I drove home, I couldn't shake the realization that the conversation which had come most naturally wasn't about the mission I represented. My heart had wandered somewhere else.

I still believed deeply in LGBTQ+ equality and justice. What had changed was where I felt most alive. I found myself increasingly drawn to conversations about connecting people with the natural world and protecting the places that had shaped my own life.

That meeting became one of the first clues that it was time for me to discern what was next. That experience taught me something I still believe today: fundraising is at its best when it flows from genuine conviction.