This was the very first question that I asked my ‘internet girlfriend’ who would, eventually, become my wife. She replied ‘Journey’ without thinking. The rest is history, as they say. That was ten years ago and her answer seems even more correct now. The longer we live the more time we have to think about our purpose on earth, the greater the opportunities to document everything and the increasing relevancy of how we do things rather than what we achieve.
The developed world enjoys fantastic standards of living. In Scotland, tap-ready drinking water largely keeps within the hundredth percentile when monitored for 46 different pathogens, the Power Track app will inform you of electricity outages down to postcode level and, if ever you get your hand stuck in a teapot, you have a 95% chance of being seen by A&E within the NHS target of four hours. There is just no comparison to equivalent services in parts of sub-Saharan Africa now or Britain two hundred years ago before the start of welfare movements.
So what? Well, it’s actually a big deal to our health that almost all risk of harm in day-to-day living is taken away from us. First, we have a much harder time taking responsibility for our own actions and can continually point to standards that have failed. Second, the expectation that we’ll be germ-free and spared from inadequate services weakens our natural resilience and adaptability. Third, a growing disconnection with nature affects our spiritual health.
Responsibility
Let’s go back to the original question in the context of my chosen subject, the outdoors. Destinations are physical points: humans do not have to be involved. Journeys are different. They mean planning and making an effort, taking risks and adopting of responsibility because doing anything with your time and energy outside your comfort area represents a risk. They require us to be creative when something doesn’t go to plan and may push us physically. Finally, they let us work with new environments that can be artificial, natural or a mixture of both. We are led by them and they change us.
I’ve done lots of journeys: overland by bus and train to Kyrgyzstan and back, across the Alps on a push bike, walking through British Columbia’s bear country for a week, not to mention the hundreds of days climbing in Europe or walking in Scotland. Like Paulo Coelho’s Santiago in The Alchemist, on each of my travels I learned something about myself and the world. On one jaunt in the Highlands, I started to see the similarity between rocks and people. I’d spent a long time on my own! Sedimentary strata such as sandstone were like those who consolidated their lives quietly; volcanic granite appeared more like those with explosive genius ideas. And my mind began to fill in the gaps with everything else.
One of the greatest uses for the outdoor journey is its power to change. I’d like to mention my favourite charity, recently nominated for a national award and featured in The Scotsman last week. Venture Trust concerns itself with giving disadvantaged young people skills and confidence. It offers several programmes for different types of participants, including carers, ex-offenders and those affected by drugs or abuse. The centrepiece for most of the participants is a few days from their outpost base in Applecross, but there are many activities beforehand: outreach referral and getting to know others on the course before it starts. There’s also follow-up to consolidate development and to celebrate achievements.
The three main factors for success of these outdoor journeys is that they are very deep, they are shared and that there is a mentor. I’ll discuss each of these. The first is that because they challenge us in unorthodox ways and may put us into situations of perceived risk, which develops creativity and toughens us up for the next time. The second is that these trips are done with a whole bunch of other people, which gives legitimacy to behaviours and backgrounds and also makes learning more interactive. The third point is that with experienced guides, it feels as if the participants are making the decisions and fills
You don’t have to be religious to understand the power of a journey in a wilderness area, but it’s worth explaining. The first aspect is a deepened sense because
Resilience
The second is that because it is front-loaded and tailed so that the experience actually lasts for much longer. Allowing for the fact that the journey part will be fun and well-coordinated, the depth and breadth has participants saying things like it was the best thing they’ve ever done. Although previous personal difficulties won’t go away and may not actually be discussed, the new endeavour creates a powerful positive experience that help dull previous memories. This is solutions-based rather than looking back over time to make sense of concepts that may be impossible to unpick.
You don’t have to come from a chaotic background to benefit from a journey in the outdoors. In my next article I’ll talk about the benefit of outdoor education for young people at school.
Outdoor education is not new and it is not limited to this country. It is tried and tested over time and geography to be an effective concept to help those from challenged backgrounds as well as those who are more fortunate. We can look to pioneering movements like the Scouts, as well as the famous ‘Summer Camp’ in the United States. New formats are sequenced, tested and delivered every year. Scotland is blessed with a very varied geography with an almost infinite right to roam, so it feels like a crime not to use it more effectively.
Connection
Third, the effectiveness of the outdoors as a learning environment is because it is unstructured. Without the fixed seating there is freedom of expression; without the teacher always up front, everybody takes a turn at directing; without the four walls, the whole world becomes the object of study. In the outdoors you can discover physics from watching rivers, improve confidence by climbing mountains, develop communication from recounting stories. Yes, these things can be taught in school, but the fact is that not everybody learns very well in classrooms. The 1880 Education Act made attendance compulsory. I’m not questioning the fact that we should give everyone the right to learn, just the assumption that it has to be done in a certain way to be effective.
It’s my opinion that we don’t need everybody to be academic. In a balanced economy there are hundreds of jobs that don’t require this. For the nation to get the best out of its human resources, people need to be encouraged to achieve a potential that matches their personal interests, drivers and values. We do not need the Future Shock society of the Toefflers. Fortunately, the vision of Scotland’s education leaders incorporates the outdoors, advocating this format in the Curriculum for Excellence. Implementation is another question: the CforE is extremely challenging for schools and cuts to councils threaten outdoor days. Added to this, our health and safety culture reduces the value of the activities and the number of participants.
So the fact that the work of outdoor youth charities and council-run outdoor centres is threatened by lack of funding in Scotland is disturbing. You may say, so what, why should I be concerned with a few young people that slip through the net. Well, I can appeal to you as a future or current tax-payer, pensioner or service user. Having children and young people slip through is enormously expensive. No doubt there is already a status quo in the care and prison system, but I’d really like to challenge this. Resources could be directed to prevention rather than cure. Another type of journey might even create a different destination.
Images
Cells of Life, Charles Jencks, Jupiter Artland, Edinburgh
Toehead machair, South Harris
The Black Cuillin, Skye
Am Basteir, Skye
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