- I’m a widow and a mother of two children.
- Although I’m not naturally inclined towards outdoor activities, I wanted to teach my children the importance of stepping out of our comfort zones.
- Our hiking trip was a valuable lesson for all of us, showing that we are capable of tackling difficult challenges together.
I may not fit the stereotype of an outdoorsy mom. Camping and rugged outdoor adventures have never appealed to me. I actively avoid muddy paths and have a strong aversion to spiders. However, as a widowed parent, it’s my responsibility to expose my children to a diverse range of experiences, even those outside of my comfort zone — especially those that involve muddy paths and spiders.
Last autumn, in an effort to demonstrate to my kids that there’s more to life than what I’m comfortable with, I took my two tweens to a hotel known for its lake activities and hiking trails. From the moment we began packing, it became apparent that none of us were properly equipped for hiking.
We embarked on a seemingly easy trail
Once we settled into the hotel, I enquired about a hike mentioned in their brochure. I wanted to ensure it was suitable for us, gesturing to the three of us to indicate our lack of hiking gear and outdoor experience. The receptionist assured me that it was an easy trail and sneakers would suffice. She also mentioned that it wouldn’t take us long.
So off we went.
Midway through the hike, surrounded by nothing but boulders and sky, it became evident that the trail was not meant for us. We weren’t walking on a dirt path, occasionally encountering a bit of mud as I had assumed. Instead, we found ourselves climbing over boulders, squeezing through narrow gaps, and constantly focusing on our footing to avoid tumbling into the depths of the mountain.
We were completely outside my comfort zone, so much so that I couldn’t even see where my comfort zone lay.
There were tears
At one point, we had to rely on our arm strength and determination to pull ourselves up. The children needed me to balance at the top and assist in their ascent. I glanced around in search of other hikers who could lend a helping hand, but we were alone.
There were tears, discussions about calling the hotel for emergency assistance (I envisioned a helicopter coming to our rescue, although in retrospect, that was a bit dramatic), and a display of real strength as we helped each other scale cliffs and accomplish what we initially believed to be impossible.
Eventually, we reached the summit. We were covered in mud, drenched with sweat, and utterly exhausted. However, we were also overwhelmed with euphoria. My daughter expressed a desire to repeat the experience, with some space in between. My son admitted to feeling a multitude of emotions, fear being the most prominent. Both of them believed it to be a family trust exercise, and they felt triumphant.
I felt relieved that we were safe and that my decision hadn’t resulted in harm to either of my children. I was thrilled that they had a positive experience and hoped it would inspire them to embrace more things beyond their comfort zones. Above all, I was content knowing that our little family of three is resilient, strong, and capable of overcoming any obstacle that comes our way.
From tears to celebrations, this entire experience served as a reminder, perhaps even a metaphor, that the three of us can tackle difficult challenges, even when thrust into unfamiliar territory. We can rely on ourselves and find a way to overcome. In the midst of the chaos of widowhood and the exhaustion of single parenthood, it’s easy to forget this.
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