"The tragedy in life is not what men suffer but what they miss."
- Thomas Carlyle
Life presents moments where you are suddenly aware of the half-life that you have been living and you long to unearth what's been lost... in doing so, you never see the world the way you did before.
I had just such a moment when I arrived in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey because I knew something was missing. Whatever it was, it had been missing since my youth, I was there hoping to reclaim it. The beaten path of my own life had become so deep it became a rut that I could no longer see over. When I got to the primitive site where our week was to take place, I began to have rather ambiguous feelings. The first being that after nearly 3 years of longing for this experience, I was elated with excitement, enthusiasm and curiosity. The other being of slight apprehension and an abundance of what if's and am I's? Was I doing this just because it it looked interesting or because I really wanted to integrate it into my lifestyle? Am I really strong enough to endure this? Am I a survivor? What if I don't find what I'm looking for?
My bare feet shuffled along the sand-laden trails that led up to the Taj (open lecture hall) and eating area. I was already beginning to feel as though I belonged here... maybe I was already starting to find what I was looking for.
I was apart of one of the last groups to be shuttled back to the primitive site so we had to move quickly to find a spot to set up our own camp. I didn't have time to get my tent set up because I did not want to miss the opening lecture by the school's founder Tom Brown Jr. There were 140 of us, much larger than the usual 80 or so allowed into the class because it was the last Standard Class of the year and Tom was able to be around more to give lectures.
Tom's opening lecture really did set the tone for the week, it was not going to be just about learning the skills that he learned from Grandfather but also the philosophy (Native American spirituality) that was so integrated into those skills. We weren't going to be pushed to the brink physically but mentally we going to be in for a very full week. Judging by my 100 or so pages of notes I'd say that qualifies. It was also important for us to grasp the reality that this is where Grandfather taught Tom, where Grandfather's camp still was and the sacredness of the Pine Barrens. There was a sense that the elders were watching over us and everything that we did must be done in a sacred manner. We were told that we are Grandfather's grandchildren and it is up to us to get this message out to a society that is destroying itself and the earth. Knowing that really prepares you for the kind of experience that doesn't just teach you but speaks to you!
By the end of our first 24 hours together we had a chance to do some real "Dirt Time" as the instructors called it. This was basically our time to begin practicing the skills that we were learning. By Monday afternoon we had been taught how to make and use a bowdrill to get fire by friction.
It was fascinating how quickly some folks started trying to get fire as if it were a competition to see who could be the first to make fire. There were some folks who got it by that evening. I, on the other hand, wanted to take my time in carving out my spindle and hand held; seeing it as an opportunity in thankfulness for the wood that would provide me with such an important survival need. I watched for two days as countless people bowed back and forth trying to get a fire only to end up with a short lived coal or nothing at all. By Wednesday I was ready to try to make my fire. My first attempt was met with an instructor giving me some pointers on my technique and on my second attempt I gave life to fire.
At this point I knew that I was meant to be there. I was starting to feel alive again. There is something sacred that happens when you create a fire, it tends to create life in you as well. I have never felt as alive as I did when I blew into that tinder bundle and saw my coal catch fire!
By Tuesday we had learned basic survival mentality, how to find water, create fire by friction, cordage and trapping. It was Tuesday morning that we began to get into the one aspect of the school that Tom is obsessive about: Tracking. This was also one of the aspects of wilderness survival that most appealed to me. Over the next 4 mornings we covered measurements, identifying animal family tracks, pattern compressions and variations, over 700 pressure releases (miniature landscapes within a track), motion, head positions, digitals, lobulars, toe ridges, debris compressions, dust & gait compressions. I don't expect you to understand any of what I just listed but it gives you an idea just how deep we got into tracking. Simply put, it is more than just identifying a track.
On the last Tracking lecture Friday morning, Tom lined us all up along the trails and he identified 50 or so (who knows I lost count) tracks and labeled them for us. Then all 140 of us spent the next hour and a half studying, training our eyes and getting dirty as we began to read the stories of the different animal tracks. Before we did so he told us to "look at the ground one last time cuz you'll never see it the same way again." It's crazy, all I do know is look at the ground for tracks and any chance I get to read the track. It gets to be an obsession.
I especially loved the lecture and chance to practice our Stalking and Movement, Throwing Arts and Natural Camouflage which was taught by Tom's son, Tommy or T3. I had been doing fox walking for a little over a year and was surprised at how natural it felt to me. Weasel walking however was a different story. My good eye-hand coordination came in handy when it came time to practice throwing sticks. I hit my targets with both throwing techniques. I am excited about the possibility to practice my stalking technique and get to understand animals better in the process.
Our diet consisted solely of soups/stew that had a different ingredient added to it each meal. On Monday night you were thinking "Man I can't take another bowl of stew," only to have Wednesday lunch come around and you're like "Man this stew is damn good!" It wasn't until Thursday that we got to have a "Primitive buffet" after viewing one of the instructor's "Primitive Cooking Show." Let me just say that in my opinion the crickets were best!
By the time Friday was here we had added how to construct a debris hut and other advanced earth shelters, the hand drill, identifying edible plants and their many uses, flint knapping, brain tanning as well as a host of other survival skills. Needless to say, we went from having a basic understanding of wilderness survival to having an abundance of resources that were at our fingertips. We had bonded as well. We were gathering around the fire finding anything we could bang on and drummed and danced as much as we possibly could. In the strangest way we were forming community, barefoot and covered with the dirt of Mother Earth... we were worshiping in the rawest, most simple way. We felt... no we were ALIVE!
It was in the last sessions Saturday morning that we had a chance to switch gears a little. Tom spent a good bit of time talking to us about Awareness as it pertains to the wilderness and to everyday life. This was the most challenging/real/inspirational/frustrating talk I had ever been in and it shook my foundations a little (which I always see as a good thing). Most of you know that I am a pretty contemplative guy and pursue any conversation/talk around spirituality/faith/philosophy. I sat on that hard bench weeping. Knowing that even though I claim to be one who is aware, often times I'm really not. How could I be such an outdoorsy kind of guy but seemingly miss a lot of what nature is whispering to me. I made a promise that day that I would choose each day to be aware and that I would miss nothing.
It has been one month since my calloused feet fox walked across those sandy trails and from the moment I saw that paved road or got off that plane back in Ohio, I knew that my world was never going to be the same again. I took up the call to be a warrior for Mother Earth. For the first time in years I feel like I know her in a way that I hadn't before. I wasn't just seeing or getting out in nature. I was feeling her, smelling her, tasting her, breathing her in.
And I found what I had lost. I became that boy that I was 20 years ago. Full of wonder, awe and awareness. A boy that didn't care if he got dirty or took risks because it meant he was curious and full of adventure... full of life! I was entering the Kingdom as a child.
I now see the Spirit that is in all and moves through all things. I realized that of all the things I've suffered in this life nothing has been as tragic as what I've missed because I chose not to be aware. "Dirt time" has that effect on you. You know that old John Denver lyric: He was born in the summer of his 27th year... it's like I've been born all over again in this my 27th year.
