My wife and I had purchased takeout from the Indian food truck in Grand Marais. We took it to eat by the harbor and watch the beauty found there. Unbeknownst to us, the young canoeists rescued from wildfires in the Wabakimi wilderness and their parents would be reunited a short distance away. Only a voyeur would watch directly at the intimacy of that emotional event. However, the joy, relief, and tears caused sideways glances from anyone close enough to witness such a remarkable event. I knew from experience that their journey and recovery wouldn’t end that evening in the parking lot.
Their story made me think about why we adventure. Merriam-Webster defines adventure as “an undertaking usually involving danger and unknown risks” and “an exciting or remarkable experience.” The promise of an exciting and remarkable experience is what motivates us to risk the potential dangers involved in a true adventure. That journey can be in the external world or within the deep topography of our soul and character. I say “or,” but in truth the journey outward and inward are dynamically intertwined. The small group paddling together deep into the wilderness required advanced preparation by skilled leaders and experienced teenagers. The leaders had done this before, but that particular journey would stretch the teenagers into new territory; physical, mental, and metaphysical.
A successful expedition has a departure and a return. Some explorers are able to write of their experience because they returned. Those that don’t come back rarely have their stories told. It is the return part of their children’s voyage that most worries parents and excursion managers. Remarkable experience, by definition, is not free from worry of the unknown. But confronting the unknown is the only way to progress, to grow. There is no other way. Engaging the unknown expands our understanding of what is possible. To avoid risk by “playing it safe” is to live a partial life, which is acceptable to many but regretted by others as old age and life’s end approaches. Mortality will catch up to every one of us. Living can cease at any time, any age, and any place. That cessation always causes grief and loss in the survivors. Admittedly, some circumstances are more egregious than others. There are timely and good deaths. Others are tragic.
Avoiding pain and suffering is the antithesis of adventuring. Those young adults in Wabakimi knew they would encounter foul weather, heat, sore muscles, biting insects, and sleeping on hard ground. And yet they went well prepared for what they knew and confident they could handle the unknown. Knowledge and confidence are the lifelong assets they take away from the wilderness. Teamwork and camaraderie were produced by their journey, as evidenced when they all lined up arm in arm with huge smiles for a group photograph by the Grand Marais harbor.
The unanticipated deadly threat of wildfire had negative impacts on everyone. Trauma of potential tragedy. Their safe return produced feelings of relief and appreciation for total strangers dedicated to their rescue. Being cherished by loved ones was abundantly clear in the aftermath. However, the fear of being trapped by raging fire far from home will probably linger in the hearts and minds of those courageous young people and the professionals responsible for their trip. Trauma can be difficult and transformative at the same time. “Post-traumatic growth (PTG)” is a theory explaining positive transformation after trauma. The term was coined in the mid-1990s by two psychologists; Richard Tedeschi, PhD, and Lawrence Calhoun, PhD, and has been studied by many professionals. However, a general understanding that suffering and distress can potentially produce positive change is thousands of years old. The early writings of all the great religions contain elements of the transformational power of suffering trauma.
It takes time and the help of experienced professionals, clergy, and loved ones to turn the negative experiences into new skills. Survival of any kind can lead to personal resiliency. Increased confidence might emerge from trauma. The healing process improves self-awareness of strengths and weaknesses. The traumatizing event can produce close relationships and the ability to relate positively with people in other contexts. Awareness of one’s own suffering can instill empathy for others. Part of the healing process is housed in greater appreciation for being alive and aware. It is a spiritual process that leads to a deeper connection to something greater than ourselves.
Finding the positive in trauma takes time and much personal work. That is the inward journey in response to an outward event. I think of the event as yarn woven into the tapestry of a personal life. The woven fabric of those teenagers’ lives is far from being fully formed. The thread of Wabakimi is a large part of their individual tapestry to date. As each new day and new experience adds more threads to their fabric, the past trauma will take up less space. Lessons learned from healing will spin new threads in that fabric to brighten and strengthen their living fabric. Any weaver will tell you that time is an essential element in creating anything of beauty.
I would like to honor the parents who recognized value in surrendering their own fears to the value of their children’s adventures. Our society is much better off when run by adults who have journeyed well in a quest of personal development. I have respect for the wilderness organizations that facilitate the experiences that produce responsive, risk-taking, and successful young people. My sincere hope is that parents and organizations don’t give in to the fear of tragedy or lawsuits by removing true adventure from the reach of teenagers and their personal growth. To prohibit their adventuring would be a great loss to us all.
