Planting a wilderness in the boy

Planting a wilderness in the boy

I have vivid memories of three experiences that have covertly guided my curiosities and explorations of wild places throughout my life. As a result, I've spent a lot of time in remote gorges and valleys, along ridges and rivers chasing similar experiences ever since—and they all delivered a captivating cocktail of discomfort, challenges, self-reflection, and personal growth.

But these three moments from my childhood were not especially profound or unique. Two moments fishing with my dad and grandfathers, watching the birds, and the worms, and the water. And one moment as a teen on my very first hike. They had inadvertently curled back the curtain of society to reveal a glimpse of something more—something that resonated within me as a young boy, and still today as a father.

We live in a world that feels less secure, more abrasive, more brittle. The solution—we are told—is more protection, convenience, and comfort. But I have children to raise, and these answers offer no lessons on hardship or sacrifice. They will not build capable minds, freedom, or the resilience that will serve them when I am gone.

So when my son finished primary school last year, we planned a coming-of-age trip to book-end his transition into a young man—and secretly—to plant those same seeds and experiences that may one day help him grow into the man he wants to be.

This trip was a collaboration with a few requirements from me, and some requests from him. I wanted to make sure we had:

  • A minimum of 3 days away from home.
  • An aspect of challenge and reward.
  • An experience that was new to him.

My son's list included:

  • Swimming in a waterfall.
  • Getting up before sunrise so he could see his own breath.
  • Some yummy food.

We landed on a three-day camping adventure—which we had done before—but we would also be completing a full-day hike to swim in a wild waterfall as a new challenge. At camp, we had plenty of full-belly food to tick this requirement, and we were to get up for sunrise and see the sunset every day.

What resulted was a cornerstone experience for us both that brought us closer together, and cemented a shared curiosity for questioning the world around us.

He completed his first full-day hike on a 7km trail, we swam in two wild waterfalls, and witnessed an incredible sunset and sunrise in the mountains together. We had some challenges with sore legs that he faced with a big smile, along with encounters with a wolf spider, a young joey, a leech, a caterpillar, hundreds of march flies, and our first dingo in the wild.

Along the way, he captured most of our adventure on video that we can now revisit together in the future.

Don't take these opportunities for granted. Make the decision to introduce challenges, discomfort, and new experiences for your children. Push their understanding of the world, unlock their curiosity, and give them room for growth.

But most of all, plant a bit of wilderness and adventure within them and watch it blossom.

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

Kahlil Gibran