Three life-changing questions popped into my mind during the wild 2020s.

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1. What do I actually know?

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Everyone was fighting over information, and everything I thought I knew had been force-fed to me through tiny (and big) black screens. I had a grade school education, a college degree, and was digitally literate. I thought I knew a lot.

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But I didn’t know how my food was made or where it came from. I didn’t know the names of my neighbors or the plants growing around me. I watched people scramble over toilet paper and imagined us starving to death right in front of the very plants that could save us—simply because we were never taught which ones they were, or never cared to learn.

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I wanted real knowledge—and rewilding became the answer.

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2. What is beyond survival?

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I felt a deep despair when I imagined myself hiding in a basement, surrounded by a horde of canned beans. That vision of “survival” wasn’t worth living for. I couldn’t imagine how life could be any better.

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On the trail, something miraculous happened that I didn’t expect. I walked the same lands my herbalist teachers once walked, working with the very plants they had used to save their lives. Each season, I watched the land offer new wild foods and saw firsthand that Mother Nature is endlessly abundant—always providing.

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Then came the nightly fire circles the children and guides built together—slow cooking in real time with real people—messy and authentic under the stars. My heart overflowed; I didn’t want to be anywhere else.

 

This was huge for me. For most of my life, I’d been lost and didn’t understand the point of living.

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I hadn’t experienced that kind of connection growing up as an only child in a traumatized home, eating frozen dinners and fast food. I realized we’re meant to be in community—not just with each other, but with the natural world around us. That’s hard to do from the corner of a room in the concrete jungle.

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That realization sparked a new desire. I thought—if the world was ending, I wanted it permanently etched into the universe that Lanly Le hosted fabulous parties while it happened—in celebration of life itself.

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And so, Yutori became the answer. I wanted to create spaces where people could gather and bathe in the vibrant energy of learning, luxuriating, communing, creating, celebrating, and beautifying. 

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Thus, Yutori Rewilding was born.

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But even after finding my purpose, one lingering question remained…

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3. Am I enough?

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I was never the strongest, biggest, or fastest in any group. I didn’t play sports in school. Walking wore me out. I hated the cold. I thought going outside was boring and didn't understand this "nature" thing people were obsessed with.

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I grew up attached to a breathing machine because of severe asthma, and just a few years ago, a doctor personally called after a check-up to tell me I had the lungs of a 65-year-old.

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And yet—right after that diagnosis, I backpacked through the Sierras for a week at nearly 12,000 feet. Since then, I’ve gone completely off-grid for eight days at a time—no phone, no matches, no tent.

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Things have always been harder for me. But that’s what taught me the truth: my weaknesses weren’t limits—they were my teachers. Struggle made me patient. It gave me empathy for anyone starting from zero. And most of all, it proved that I could survive—and grow stronger—because of it.

 

When doubt creeps in, I return to the facts: I’ve gone from aimless despair to a life of purpose and joy. I can walk into the wild with nothing but a knife and thrive—and now I can teach others to do the same. None of this was luck; it came from showing up consistently and learning, step by step.

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I share this for the beginners, the hesitant ones who want to connect to nature but don’t know where to start. Because if I can do it, so can you. I'll show you how.

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​These lessons became more than stories—they became my way of living and guiding others.

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In conclusion...

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Rewilding is not a destination—it’s a continuous process that becomes an effortless way of living. What remains is the delicious spaciousness that Yutori offers, inviting us to walk fearlessly and eagerly into the brilliant world around us.

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I envision a future where everything I teach becomes common knowledge—and beyond that, a shared way of life. A world where our focus turns to self and collective discovery, where we explore the vast boundaries and depths of our creative minds and spirits.

 

A world where we live in intuitive harmony with all plants and animals, co-existing and co-creating in an expansive, natural rhythm—so that together, we may experience paradise on Earth.​

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