It was such a beautiful sunny winter morning today that I felt gravitated to take the boys to the brickworks.
When we got there, we parked on the east side, under the old train bridge. Issy, my 6 year old, immediately asked me: “Where do the tracks end? Where do the trains go after they crossed the bridge?”
I said: “You want to see?”. I had happened to know, as I was wondering the same thing years ago and had gone exploring around there.
We walked up the path to the top of the quary and then through a side path we found to the tracks. It had snowed the night before and as the path had not yet been walked on, if you payed attention, you could notice a multitude of animal tracks along the way. I think I was following the path of what looked like a bunny. I knew as the footprints were side by side, rather than one in front of the other.
It was the early morning on a Sunday , so no one was there yet. It felt magical and serene walking on the tracks in the glimmering morning sunlight.
Then Issy said: “Mama, where is the bridge? I want to see the bridge.”: So on we went to find the bridge.
We got there, “mission accomplished”.
Then began the next phase of our adventure: the task of finding our way back. As we looked for a way to get back, we saw a clearing in the bushes and decided to take it.
As we meandered through some low bushes for a few minutes, we found ourselves at the bottom of a now steep incline (for those of you that know the brickworks, you know that it is situated at the bottom of a quary).
The problem: due to the recent increase in temperatures, the incline was now a path of wet, slippery mud.
The boys looked back at me (I was holding back to make sure everyone stayed on course), and responded with: “we are all good. keep going.”
I don’t think I realized how slippery and steep it was. Issy went first and immediately began sliding down. He then grasped a tree root hoisted himself up and said: “Mama, don’t worry, I got this”.
I was last as I wanted to make sure I caught anyone if they started sliding. Issy maneuvered the roots as both handles and grips to reach the top.
When he got there and noticed his little 5 year old brother struggling, he found a long stick and hollered down to his brother to grab on.
Both boys got to the top.
It was I now, that kept sliding. In that moment, my 5 and 6 year old boys, looked for a thicker and longer stick , grabbed on together and lowered it down to try to pull me up. I grabbed on and it did the trick.
As the three of us stood at the top of the brickworks ridge, covered in mud, we looked at each other and smiled. We were beaming.
I was so proud of my boys in this moment. I was proud of us.
As a mom, seeing the ridge and steepish path full of mud, I could have immediately thought this is going to be a disaster and directed the pack back on the thinking that mud, incline and tired boys was not a great combo (I forgot to mention, we were on our way to a chanuka lunch at at my in-laws). But I didn’t let my mind or my guidance go there. We were having fun.
Being outside, in the cold, navigating unexpected terrain and circumstances and finding our way, felt like we were not only having fun, but we were getting stronger as a unit and experimenting with our resilience.
Maybe we don’t need to protect our kids in the ways that we think?
Sure, lets make sure they are safe.
But maybe we have to expose them to more opportunities to be in the “uncomfortable”? To experiment with their own capabilities, strength and character.
I sometimes wonder if our society has become too domesticated. Domesticated in the sense that our kids learn how to push buttons (stoves, kettles, microwaves, apps).
Consider a new approach: Consider exposing yourself and your children to the basics and not being afraid if things go wrong, or not as expected.
Who knows…it may make them stronger and give them the opportunity to connect more deeply to those that they experienced it with, as well as see first hand what they are capable of.