Photo Friday: I Run a Nature-Based Playgroup and I Did Not (and Still Do Not) Always Enjoy Being Outdoors

If you've read a post or two here or know me personally, you can see that getting outside, especially with children, is something I greatly value. What you may not see or know is that I did not always love being outdoors and I still don't.

I created the artwork in the photo above after receiving an assignment in a 4 week course on becoming a natural teacher. The instructions were to use magazine clippings, words and pictures/photos to illustrate your vision, goals and inspiration for being an outdoor educator. As you can see, I followed the directions to a T. But honestly, I had a hard time even beginning. I even got S and Y on the job with a huge piece of paper, crayons and old gardening magazines, recycled seed catalogs, scissors and glue. Turns out, your kids can do your homework but it's still their work at the end of the day and not yours. And then, I suddenly (and finally) had a vision for my Vision Board. It's a simple statement that encompasses all that I do and am striving for, not to mention nature's loose parts, beads, glue, dried lavender buds and copious amounts of glitter... I plan to have my husband help me hang it above the door heading out to our back garden (#shortpeopleproblems) so I will see it every time I'm in the kitchen.

One of the things I frequently hear from parents in my playgroup, fellow friends and educators and even other parents I don't know personally is that they do not like to be outside. Some would even describe it as an aversion. I've taught in classrooms where teachers preferred to stay indoors with a child who needed extra assistance or to remain inside for some reason rather than come out with the class. And when it comes to running a nature based playgroup that meets in parks, I have heard plenty of temperature, climate and environmentally related complaints--yet, again and again, these families show up with their children. (It should be noted as well that I, too, have been "too cold," "too hot," uncomfortable from "too much wind" or "too many bugs..."). Why do we do it? Why do we get those kids to the park again and again? Because somewhere, beneath the layers of outwear and discomforts, we know that this is important. Whether it's the dose of Vitamin D, the fresh air, the space for our kids to run off steam, the peer pressure, the media pressure, or maybe some deep seeded memory of being four ourselves and running through a field of grass and blooming lilac bushes in a perpetual state of wonder, we are drawn again and again to the great outdoors.

I spent a lot of time playing outside as a child. We were a toss-em-out-into-the-backyard kind of family. I made mud pies and salads, I ate chives by the handful and smelled like an onion for the first 8 years of my life. I got bug bites and splinters and impetigo and skinned my knees and once I even fell in a tree with a branch caught precariously between my legs. I am not athletic. I didn't ride a bike without training wheels until I was 8. My dad taught me in what I'd describe as one of the best days of my life. The first time I went camping I was in the 4th grade and went on a weekend trip with the Girl Scout troop I was in.  I missed my mommy. There was a rat in the outhouse. Did I mention I ate something that didn't agree with me and spent a lot of time in the outhouse? I kept a stiff upper lip, but the lower one may have gone a bit wobbly here and there. I attended an incredible outdoor day camp each summer in the Heldeberg mountains in upstate NY. I remember loving it. My friend remembers me complaining a lot. You say tomato, I say tomahto....

At some point, a great deal of my outdoor life was commuter based. Getting from the door to the car. Getting from the car to the door. It wasn't until college that I began to take up and try out hiking, biking, all-season camping, snow shoeing, even skiing (which I HATED), hunting (equally unsuccessful), jet skiing (that was fun), canoeing (not as fun), and a bit of gardening here and there. Here's what you should know: I love that I did all of this. I did not always love it when I was doing it.

I'm the kind of gal who would talk your ear off about how much I wanted to go camping. Then I'd buy a tent and pitch it in my living room and microwave a s'more. Then, I'd finally go camping and the first time I tried to pee in the woods, I'd miss just a little. Your flashlight got a little wet in the process but I dried it. My clothes didn't fare as well. Once we got home, I'd go back to talking your ear off about how much I love camping, but the reality is that I loved the idea of it. I loved the accomplishment of sticking it out. I never loved the actual act of it and I don't know that I was ever truly present in it.

I also loved hiking. I lived for 5 years within walking distance of a great lakeside hill with a 2-3 mile trail. I hiked it frequently and became comfortable and confident enough to love it. I learned to like things outdoors if I could repeat them enough to become comfortable and confident. Familiarity is my security. But novel hikes were always a challenge. Similar to camping, they were events I looked forward to and glorified, complained about while I was there and then raved about after I got home.

The first Pesach after S was born, we went and stayed by friends of mine from my college years. During Chol Hamoed (the interim days of the holiday) the family invited us to go on a little nature walk. It would be stroller friendly, we'd take the kids and a few snacks and some water. They looked up the location on an app on their phones.

Ok, so as it turns out it wasn't stroller friendly. It was not a little nature walk ona trail; it was a freakin' mountain. Here I am in my leather boots (great hiking shoes), a skirt (cuz you can do it in a skirt), wearing a baby (cuz you can do it wearing a baby) and my sheitel (wig--because why hike in only one set of hair when you can hike in two?) and below is a photo of what we actually did on our little nature walk...

Never. Ever. Again. I'm so glad I did it. I climbed a freaking mounting in a skirt, wearing a leather boots and a baby and a sheitel and I am never ever doing this again. I brought home a sense of accomplishment. My husband brought home Lyme Disease. Never. Ever. Again.

But what if on a daily basis, you don't enjoy being outside? What if you are averse to it altogether? I love to garden and I love seeing my kids play and I even feel playful with them out there. But I don't like bugs so much (I try to fake it till I make it). I was supposedly severely allergic to bee stings as a kid and I'm still afraid of bees. I plant a pollinator's garden every spring. I dress like the photo above year round. Minus the leather boots, sometimes with a hat or scarf and not a sheitel. Are you hot in the summer? So am I. I hunch my shoulders up to my ears whenever it's raining because for some reason I think this will make me stay dryer or warmer or something like that. And even though I have a garden and sometimes in spite of me having it stuff actually grows, I'm not very good at it. I am better at keeping humans alive, watered and fed.

And then I wonder. I wonder back to those early days of being happily tossed out in the yard and the years that followed when I walked two feet with my shoulders up to my ears between the car and the front door, cursing under my breath because it was raining. What happened? I don't remember. But when I watch my boys outside, grinning from ear to ear, eating freshly picked strawberries, falling down and skinning their knees, making mud pies, catching raindrops on their tongues, hoarding sticks and interesting rocks and picking wildflowers from the side of the road--I don't want their shoulders to go up to their ears when it rains. I don't want them to forget why they stopped liking to play outside because I don't want them to forget why they liked it in the first place.

And here's how I tackle my own aversion to being out there... I don't know if these ideas work for everyone or if they will work for you, but it works for me:

• What's your WHY: I have mine, what is yours? Why is it important to you to get outside? If it is for your children and or students, I commend you. I also encourage you to find a why for yourself as well.
• What do you love? What is something you love to do? Are you a knitter or crocheter? Do you love coffee? Do you enjoy reading? Are there things you love to do indoors you could bring outside with you?
• Find something out there that draws you in: If it's flowers, a garden, listening to the birds, an interesting tree stump, a particular park or spot--find something that draws you in again and again and seek it--again and again. If you can, bring a bit of it in with you, whether it's cut flowers in a vase, a photo of a sacred space, a smooth rock, a particular shell...
• Make the space a reflection of you: If you have a yard or outdoor space, treat it as you would your bedroom or living room. Make it a reflection of you. Have things out there that you love, that inspire you to return, that bring you joy.
• Check in, not out: One thing I struggled with often both as a teacher and parent was my tendency to see outdoor time as one to check out. Rather than being engaged with the act of being outside, I was engaged with prep work for my class or catching up with correspondence at home. I'm not saying never to use outdoor time for these purposes, but rather to try and set some time to intentionally be with yourself outside. To notice and observe the experiences of being there without judging them--even if it includes some feelings of discomfort. And even if it does include feelings of discomfort, also notice other elements--sounds you hear, sounds you don't hear, smells the remind you of something in your childhood but you're not sure what, a bird splashing in a puddle, a cloud shaped like a T-Rex... 
• Go with a friend: Like company? Bring some! 
• Go alone: Like solitude? Take some.
• Have a mission and/or destination: if "just going outside" is not your favorite, make it part of a larger mission or destination. Go outside, and... Choose an activity you love to do out there (even if it's not an "outdoor activity") or choose a destination at the end (a favorite coffee shop or boutique). There's nothing wrong with coupling a less preferred activity with a little reward. And if you can make the brain connection between being outside and reaching that reward, you can spark some of those neural connections to develop into muscle memory; you may find you need less of that reward to feel the good feelings of being outside. And, coming from true experience, it's OK if some of the time--and even all of the time--those good feelings of being outside don't come until you're back indoors!

Happy Friday and Happy Playing!